use,
too, and Bertha had settled herself in that secluded corner of the
garden precisely because she thought she could not be overlooked.

Beth glanced at her from time to time mechanically, but without
thinking of her. It struck her at last, however, that Bertha had never
opened her book, which seemed odd after the special point she had made
of being left alone to read it undisturbed. Then Beth noticed that she
seemed to be on the look-out, as if she were expecting something or
somebody; and presently Dan appeared, walking quickly and with a
furtive air, as if he were afraid of being seen. Bertha flushed
crimson and became all smiles as soon as she saw him. Beth's work
dropped on her lap, she clasped her hands on it, her own face flushed,
and her breath became laboured. Dan, after carefully satisfying
himself that there was nobody about, sat down beside Bertha, put his
arm round her waist, and kissed her. She giggled, and made a feeble
feint of protesting. Then he took a jewel-case from his pocket, opened
it, and held it out to her admiring gaze. It contained a handsome gold
bracelet, which he presently clasped on her arm. She expressed her
gratitude by lifting up her face to be kissed. Then he put his arm
round her again, and she sat with her head on his shoulder, and they
began to talk; but the conversation was interrupted by frequent
kisses.

Beth had seen enough. She turned her back to the window, and sat quite
still with her hands clasped before her. It was her first experience
of that parasite, the girl who fastens herself on a married woman,
accepts all that she can get from her in the way of hospitality and
kindness, and treacherously repays her by taking her husband for a
lover. Beth pitied Bertha, but with royal contempt. It all seemed so
sordid and despicable. Jealous she was not. "Jealousy is a want of
faith in one's self," she had said to Bertha's mother once, and now,
in the face of this provocation, she was of the same mind. She had no
words to express her scorn for a man who is false to his obligations,
nor for the petty frauds and deceits which had made the position of
those two tenable. As for Dan, he was beneath contempt; but--"I shall
succeed!" The words sprang to her lips triumphantly. "Let him wallow
with his own kind in congenial mire as much as he likes. No wonder he
suspects me! But I--I shall succeed!"

Meanwhile down in the garden Dan was gurgling to Bertha: "What should
I do without you,