a blessing she is so unbusiness-like! I couldn't have done it but for
you."

"I am very glad to have been of some service," said Constance demurely.

"I couldn't have got on without you. I can't get on without you ever
again."

"But that's nonsense," said Miss Grant.

"You won't make me, Constance? There's no confounded money to come
between _us_."

He caught at the hand that swung by her side.

"But you said you loved _her_, and that was why----"

"Ah, but that was a thousand years ago. And it was nonsense, even then,
Constance."

And so two others went along the sea-wall in the October sunshine,
happily, like children, hand in hand.

VI

THE HERMIT OF "THE YEWS"

Maurice Brent knew a great deal about the Greek anthology, and very
little about women. No one but himself had any idea how much he knew of
the one, and no one had less idea than himself how little he knew of the
other. So that when, a stranger and a pilgrim hopelessly astray amid a
smart house-party, he began to fall in love with Camilla, it seemed to
be no one's business to tell him, what everybody else knew, that Camilla
had contracted the habit of becoming engaged at least once a year. Of
course this always happened in the country, because it was there that
Camilla was most bored. No other eligible young man happened to be free
at the moment: Camilla never engaged herself to ineligibles. The habit
of years is not easily broken: Camilla became engaged to Maurice, and,
for the six months of the engagement, he lived in Paradise. A fool's
Paradise, if you like, but Paradise all the same.

About Easter time Camilla told him, very nicely and kindly, that she had
mistaken her own heart--she hoped he would not let it make him very
unhappy. She would always wish him the best of good fortune, and
doubtless he would find it in the affection of some other girl much
nicer and more worthy of him than his sincere friend Camilla. Camilla
was right--no one could have been less worthy of him than she: but after
all it was Camilla he thought that he loved, Camilla he felt that he
wanted, not any other girl at all, no matter how nice or how worthy.

He took it very quietly: sent her a note so cold and unconcerned that
Camilla was quite upset, and cried most of the evening, and got up next
day with swollen eyelids and a very bad temper. She was not so sure of
her power as she had been--and the loss of such a certainty is never
pleasant.

He, meanwh