ht; he
was certainly changed; he no longer loved me.

'In desperation I acted upon her advice, and resigned my parish work. It
seemed to me that I was parting with the last shred of my happiness when
I did so. I made weak health my excuse, and indeed I was far from well;
but I had the anguish of seeing the unspoken reproach in Mr. Cunliffe's
eyes: he thought me cowardly, vacillating; he was disappointed in me.

'It was the end of April by this time, and in a week or two the day would
come when he would have to speak to me again. Would you believe it?--but
no, you could not dream that I was so utterly mad and foolish,--but in
spite of all this wretchedness I still hoped. The day came and passed,
and he never came near me, and the next day, and the next; and then I
knew that Etta was right,--his love for me was gone.'

'You believed this, Gladys?' but I dared not say more: my promise to Max
fettered me.

'How could I doubt it?' she returned, looking at me with dry, miserable
eyes; and I seemed to realise then all her pain and humiliation. 'His not
coming to me at the appointed time was to be a sign between us that he
had changed his mind. Did I not tell him so with my own lips? did I not
say to him that he was free as air, and that no possible blame could
attach itself to him if he failed to come? Do you suppose that I did
not mean those words?'

'Could you not have given him the benefit of a doubt?' I returned.
'Perhaps your manner too was changed and made him lose hope: the
resignation of all your work in the parish must have discouraged him,
surely.'

'Still, he would have come to me and told me so,' she replied quickly.
'He is not weak or wanting in moral courage: if he had not changed to me
he would have come.

'I have never had hope since that day,' she went on mournfully. 'He is
very kind to me,--very; but it is only the kindness of a friend. He tries
to hide from me how much he is disappointed in me, how I have failed to
come up to his standard; but of course I see it. But for Etta I should
have resumed my work. You were present when he nearly persuaded me to do
so; I was longing then to please him; I think it would be a consolation
to me if I could do something, however humble, to help him; but Etta
always prevents me from doing so. She has taken all my work, and I do not
think she wants to give it up, and she makes me ready to sink through the
floor with the things she says. I dare not open my lips to Mr