I have been
impatient or unmindful of your kindness." And then I took up my hat and
left the room, and it was weeks before I set foot in Gladwyn again.'

'Oh, Max! my poor Max!' I returned, stroking his hand softly. He did not
take it away: he only looked at me with his kind smile.

'That was Emmie's way,--her favourite little caress. Wait a moment,
Ursula, my dear; I am going out for a breath of air,' And he stood in the
porch for a few minutes, looking up at the winter sky seamed with stars,
and then came back to me quietly, and waited for me to speak.

CHAPTER XXVIII

CROSSING THE RIVER

Max waited for me to speak, but I had no words ready for the occasion. My
silence seemed to perplex him.

'You have heard everything now, Ursula.'

'Yes, I suppose so. I am very sorry for you, Max; you have suffered
cruelly. And this only happened last year?'

'Last February.'

'It is very strange,--very mysterious. I do not seem to understand it.
I cannot find the clue to all this.'

'There is no clue needed,' he returned impatiently. 'Miss Hamilton is in
love with her cousin, and is sorry for my disappointment.'

'I do not believe it,' I replied bluntly. And yet, as I said this,
Gladys's conduct seemed to me perfectly inexplicable. It was just
possible that Max's statement, after all, might be correct,--that she did
not love him well enough to marry him: and this would account for her
nervousness and constraint in his presence: a sensitive girl like Gladys
would never be at her ease under such circumstances. But she had promised
not to withdraw her friendship: why had she then given up her work and
made herself a stranger to his dearest interest? I had seen her struggle
with herself when he had begged her to resume her class. A brightness had
come to her eyes, her manner had become warm and animated, as though the
stirring of new life were in her veins, and then she had refused him very
gently, and a certain dimness and blight had crept over her. I had
wondered then at her.

No, I could not bring myself to believe that she was indifferent to Max.
He was so good, so worthy of her. And yet--and yet, do we women always
choose the best? Perhaps, as Max said, she knew him too well for him to
influence her fancy. Captain Hamilton's scars and medals might cast a
glamour over her. Gladys was very impulsive and enthusiastic; perhaps Max
was too quiet and gentle to take her heart by storm.

I had plenty of time for th