f hope, for after reflecting a few minutes she looked at
me gravely and said it should be as I wished. In a year's time I might
speak to her again, and she would know her own mind.

'I pleaded for a shorter ordeal, though secretly I was overjoyed at this
crumb of consolation vouchsafed to me. But she was inexorable, though
perfectly gentle in her manner.

'"I wish you had set your heart on some one else, Mr. Cunliffe,"
she said, with a melancholy smile, "for I can give you so little
satisfaction. I feel so confused and weary, as though life afforded me
no pleasure. But, indeed, I do all you tell me, and I mean to go on with
my work."

'I was glad to hear her say this, for at least I should have the
happiness of seeing her every day.

'"In a year's time," she went on, "my heart may feel a little less heavy,
and I shall have had opportunity to reflect over your words. I cannot
tell you what my answer may be, but if you are wise you will not hope. If
you do not come to me then, I shall know that you have changed, and shall
not blame you in the least. You are free to choose any one else. I have
so little encouragement to give you that I shall not expect you to submit
to this ordeal." But I think her firmness was a little shaken, and she
looked at me rather timidly when I thanked her very quietly and said that
at the time appointed I would speak to her again. I supposed she had not
realised the strength of my feelings.

'Ursula, I was by no means hopeless. And as the months passed on my hopes
grew.

'I saw her daily, and after the first awkwardness had passed we were good
friends. But her manner changed insensibly. She was less frank with me;
at times she was almost shy. I saw her change colour when I looked at
her. She was quiet in my presence, and yet my coming pleased her. I
thought it would be well with me when the time came for renewing my
suit; but it seems that I was a blind fool.

'I had put down the exact date, May 7. It was last year, Ursula. I meant
to adhere to the very day and hour; but before February closed my hopes
had suffered eclipse.

'All at once Miss Hamilton's manner became cold and constrained, as
you see it now. Her soft shyness, that had been so favourable a sign,
disappeared entirely. She avoided me on every occasion. She seemed to
fear to be alone with me a moment. Her nervousness was so visible and so
distressing that I often left her in anger. A barrier--vague, and yet
substantial--seem