riously unhappy if--if
I failed. Did he say anything to discourage, to depress you?"

"Not he. I don't think I should have minded if he had. I felt strong
enough for anything then. It was this morning. I was sitting out here,
looking at all this beautiful inspiring scenery, when it came to me,
that notion that I should never do anything again."

"Is it--" her hesitations were delightful to him--"is it the want of
recognition that disheartens you?"

He laughed again, a healthy honest laugh. "Oh, dear me, no! I don't
worry about recognition. That would be all right if I could go on. But
I can't go on."

"Have you ever felt like this before?"

"N--no. No, never. And for the life of me I can't think why I should
now."

"And yet you've been making catalogues for years, haven't you?"

Lucia had said to herself, "It's that catalogue _raisonne_, I know."

"Do you like making catalogues?"

"Well, under ordinary circumstances it isn't exactly what you'd call
exciting. But I'm afraid that hasn't got anything to do with it this
time."

"It may have everything to do with it--such a dreadful kind of work."

"No. It isn't the work that's dreadful."

"Then perhaps it's the worry? And I'm afraid I'm responsible for
that."

He started, shaken out of his admirable self-possession by that
glaring personality. "How could you be?"

"By insisting on engaging you as I did. From what you told me it's
very evident that you had something on your mind, and that the work
has been very dreadful, very difficult."

"I _have_ something on my mind and--it _has_ been difficult--all the
same--"

"I wouldn't have pressed you if I had really known. I'm very sorry. Is
it too late? Would it be any good if I released you now?"

If she released him!

"Miss Harden, you are most awfully good to me."

"_Would_ that help you?"

He looked at her. Over her face there ran again that little ripple of
thought and sympathy, like shadow and flame. One fear was removed from
him. Whatever happened Miss Harden would never misunderstand him. At
the same time he realized that any prospect, however calamitous, would
be more endurable than the course she now proposed.

"It wouldn't help me. The best thing I can do is to stay where I am
and finish."

"Is that the truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

("But not the whole truth," thought Lucia.)

"Well," she said, rising, "whatever you do, don't lose heart."

He smiled drearily. It was all very well