ing to Mr. Walsh.'

Sidwell coloured, and made answer in the quiet tone which her mother
had come to understand as a reproof, a hint of defective delicacy:

'I don't think I have behaved in a way that should cause you surprise.'

'It seemed to me that you were really very--friendly with him.'

'Yes, I am always friendly. But nothing more.'

'Don't you think there's a danger of his misunderstanding you, Sidwell?'

'I don't, mother. Mr. Walsh understands that we differ irreconcilably
on subjects of the first importance. I have never allowed him to lose
sight of that.'

Intellectual differences were of much less account to Mrs. Warricombe
than to her daughter, and her judgment in a matter such as this was
consequently far more practical.

'If I may advise you, dear, you oughtn't to depend much on that. I am
not the only one who has noticed something--I only mention it, you
know.'

Sidwell mused gravely. In a minute or two she looked up and said in her
gentlest voice:

'Thank you, mother. I will be more careful.'

Perhaps she had lost sight of prudence, forgetting that Mr. Walsh could
not divine her thoughts. Her interest in him was impersonal; when he
spoke she was profoundly attentive, only because her mind would have
been affected in the same way had she been reading his words instead of
listening to them. She could not let him know that another face was
often more distinct to her imagination than his to her actual sight,
and that her thoughts were frequently more busy with a remembered
dialogue than with this in which she was engaged. She had abundantly
safe-guarded herself against serious misconstruction, but if gossip
were making her its subject, it would be inconsiderate not to regard
the warning.

It came, indeed, at a moment when she was very willing to rest from
social activity. At the time of her last stay in London, three years
ago, she had not been ripe for reflection on what she saw. Now her mind
was kept so incessantly at strain, and her emotions answered so
intensely to every appeal, that at length she felt the need of repose.
It was not with her as with the young women who seek only to make the
most of their time in agreeable ways. Sidwell's vital forces were
concentrated in an effort of profound spiritual significance. The
critical hour of her life was at hand, and she exerted every faculty in
the endeavour to direct herself aright.

Having heard from his brother that Sidwell had not been o