elieved that some one else has told me.' But she shook her head.

'How do I know what they said? And Giles is aware of it, you say. Oh,
Ursula, for pity's sake, tell me, has he talked to you about Eric?'

'No, no, not in the way you mean: he only said that we must not judge or
misjudge other people. He seemed afraid that I should misjudge him.'

'Oh, I am thankful to know that. I could not bear to have the poor boy
discussed between you two. Giles would have made you believe everything,
he has such a way with him, and you would not know any better. Oh,
Ursula,' in a piteous voice, 'you must not listen to them; they are all
so hard on my poor darling. Faulty as he was, he was innocent of the
crime laid to his charge; they have accused him falsely. Eric never
took that cheque.'

I could see she was strongly agitated. Her delicate throat swelled with
emotion, and she took hold of my hands and held them tightly, and her
large blue-gray eyes were fixed on my face with such a beseeching
expression that I could have promised to believe anything. And yet she
was right. Mr. Hamilton had a way with him that influenced people
strongly; he could speak with a power and authority that seemed to
dominate one in spite of one's self. It has always appeared to me that we
poor women are easily silenced and subjugated by a strong masculine will.
It is difficult to assert a timid individuality in the presence of a
regnant force.

I answered her as gently as I could. 'Dear Gladys, you will make yourself
ill. Will it give you any relief to speak out? I will listen to anything
you have to say.'

She drew a deep breath, and the colour ebbed back into her face.

'Perhaps it may be a relief: I am weary of silence,--of trying to bear
it alone; and other things are wearing me out. Etta is not so far wrong,
after all.' And then she stopped, and looked at me wistfully, and her
lips trembled. 'Ursula, you are a nurse; you go about comforting sick
bodies and sick minds. If I am ill,--one must be ill sometimes,--will you
promise to come and take care of me, in spite of all Etta may do or say?'

I hesitated for a moment, for it seemed to me impossible to give an
unconditional promise, but she continued reproachfully, 'You cannot have
the heart to refuse! I wanted to ask you this before. You would not,
surely, leave me to eat out my heart in this loneliness! If you knew what
it is to have Etta with one at such times! an east wind would be more
mer