e, pitifully. This confession was
so utterly different from anything she had expected to hear that
her heart grew lighter in spite of herself.

Mary laughed in a dreary, mirthless fashion. "Do you know it is a
bitter humiliation to me to owe my life to Jervis Ferrars?" she
said brusquely.

"Why?" demanded Katherine, the question dragged from her in spite
of herself.

A wave of hot colour surged over Mary's face; it was not often she
blushed, but now she was crimson. "I don't think I can tell you
that," she replied unsteadily. "In any case it is immaterial to
the story, except that he once asked me a boon I would not grant;
and for that I have been sorry ever since, which shows the
contrary-mindedness of women, don't you think?"

Katherine nodded; speak she could not. This was worse than
anything she had expected. Mrs. Burton had suggested that Mary was
in love with Jervis, but here was Mary herself plainly intimating
that Jervis had once asked for her love, but that she had refused
him, only to regret her refusal ever since.

"He is such a good fellow," went on Mary, with a yearning note in
her voice which stabbed Katherine like actual pain. "When Father
asked him about the affair in the tidehole, he never once said
anything about my fearful panic, which so nearly cost him his life;
and the very fact of his reticence has made me feel the meanest
creature on the face of the earth. I can scarcely look my father
in the face, and when he pities me for having been in such sore
straits I feel like sinking through the couch from very shame."

"Why don't you tell Mr. Selincourt then?" asked Katherine bluntly.
"He would understand how panic had unnerved you, and certainly he
would not judge you harshly."

"I can't tell him; I am not brave enough. I told you I was a
coward, and so I am, especially in matters of that sort. It is an
awful thing to me to lose anyone's good opinion. My pride, I
suppose; but really I can't help it," Mary answered with a shrug.

"Yet you have told me," said Katherine, forcing a smile. "Were you
not afraid of losing my good opinion, or was it that you did not
care?"

"I was just desperate; I had to own up to someone, and so, from
love of contrast I suppose, I turned to you, who are always brave,"
Mary said.

Katherine shook her head: "You make a great mistake; I am a
horrible coward underneath. I think all girls are; it is one of
the weaknesses of our nature which neither tr