"I suppose you know," she said slowly, leaning her head on her hand, and looking up into her companion's face, that it is a little unusual for a pretty girl of twenty-three to be rattling about the world in Worth toilettes, with or without a maid as young as herself; investing in gold shares on her own account, and dropping into casinos as if they were picture-galleries?" The other laughed rather unpleasantly. "It is just that pretty girl of twentythree," she said, "who knows life. Men ? I believe no woman living knows men as I do. If I were to tell you things that have happened, things that I have seen She paused. "I should listen with deference, but say that your view was necessarily a one-sided one." 66 lenge. "I do two friends, who “Oh, friends!" exclaimed the girl wearily. "By the way, you had a friend with you on the steamer, had not you?" The young woman despised herself the more for the direct question when she saw the color rise to the fair face. "Yes-no- that is, yes, he is a sort of a friend. I hope you don't think," she exclaimed suddenly, “that is the man I was talking about! The The word was a chal- one on the steamer is well, no matter! He is a cut above me, anyhow; and besides, he is married already. It is a duty to be kind to him, poor fellow! His wife's a brute." -- Why?" "Because "the young woman was surprised at her own boldness - "going about as you do, you don't meet the best men, nor see the best side to those The little woman laughed - a fresh you do meet." young laugh. "I am not an authority "You believe there is a best side, do on men, like you," she said; "but I you?" should have thought you must have discovered that it is rather delicate work for a pretty girl to be kind to a man whose wife is a brute.' Matrimonial duties and responsibilities can scarcely be safely delegated." "I don't. I know it." The beautiful lips curled contemptuously. "If I were to write a book, and tell my experiences "Do. I should read it, for one." "Would you? Bah! They're not worth it." She snapped her fingers. "I don't care that for the whole sex except one, of course! and he is horrid; I believe that is why I am feeling so low to-night." The friendly interest which had brightened the plain woman's face died out. As an outcome of the previous conversation, this was disappointing. "In that case I should be horrid too," she said coldly. "I would not break my heart for him." The girl looked as if an insult had been offered to her intelligence. "Do you think I am such a fool," she said, "as to cut off my nose to spite my face? No, no. I don't need anybody to tell me what to do. I shall wait "Do you really think me so pretty?" was the eager, irrelevant response. The plain face hardened, — then broke again into a smile. "I do. I suppose it is needless to add that favor is deceitful and beauty is vain.' Your retort would be too obvious. But I don't grudge you your quarter of an hour's start of me." "You mean you don't care to be good-looking ? " "Would you believe me if I said so?" The girl hesitated. "I never believed any woman yet who said so; but you "she broke off suddenly, with a slight blush. "You know I did not mean to say you were plain," she said nervously; "you are "Thank that will do." you; The plain young woman rose into quiet dignity at once. "I suppose you are not actually a Venus; and my friends, no doubt, would tell you that I am not irredeemably ugly; but we are speaking broadly, and, broadly speaking, there is no doubt that we are fair representatives of the two classes. You are a beautiful woman, and I am — what, by a euphemism, we call plain. Naturally you think the advantage is all on your side. If you had thought of me at all when we met at Victoria, you would have said, Poor devil! but why at least doesn't she wear a decent gown?'" The beautiful girl glanced at the dark serge folds, and tried in vain to find a redeeming feature in their quiet severity. "And yet," continued the speaker, "if by any chance you and I were to travel again to-morrow night with all these men, they would say, when you entered the dining-car, Here is that handsome girl again!' When I came in, it would never occur to any of them that they had seen me before. Don't you see? I am invisible. I have got the ring of Gyges. Nobody is on his guard with me - I see people as they "And that contents you?" "Sometimes. It leaves room for other things. At the present moment it contents me just to look at your face." "I thought you despised beauty?" "Then you are a fool," was the young woman's mental comment, but she only said, "I don't think you can have thought that. I don't despise the Koh-i-noor because I should not care to wear it in Regent Street." "Do you write books yourself?" "Nor paint pictures ?" "Nor compose ?" "Are you engaged to be married?" "No." There was half a minute's silence, and then the next question came suddenly, "Do you believe in the immortality of the soul?" Accustomed though the young woman was to the intense talk of the youth of the present day, the abruptness of this attack took her breath away. "I don't know," she said, surprised out of all caution. "I agree with a great teacher of mine who says that it is no concern of ours. We have enough light to live by without that. It is surely a want of faith to ask for more." The girl tapped her foot impatiently on the floor of the carriage. These were not the lines on which her mind had worked. "What I always say is," she said, "that nobody ever has come back. Why should we ever have taken it into our heads that there was another life? We had no reason to think so. One after another goes, but nobody ever comes back to tell us." "Why should we ever have taken it into our heads that there was another life?" repeated the young woman meditatively. "I suppose -if we are to think of the matter at all— that is the one great argument for its exist “I expect,” she said, a little nervously, "that you are very learned." "Oh no!" The young woman laughed pleasantly. "Well, we are talking more or less honestly, so I will confess that I am learned enough to know when somebody else writes a good poem, or paints a good picture, or ence." composes a good waltz." "Billets, s'il vous plait !" The smart young conductor stood in moved imperceptibly along, and the the doorway. soft plash of the oars could be heard "Oh, bother our tickets! "exclaimed now and then from the shore. The the girl, looking up with a charming band had ceased playing, and most of smile. "If you plague me, you shall the promenaders had gone home for get no tip― do you understand?” the night; but down on the beach a little crowd was gathered still, listening to the eager, thrilling voice of a mis The man bowed with very evident admiration for the lovely speaker. "Tell me," she went on, "do you go sion preacher. all the way with this train ?” Yes, madame." "To Monte Carlo?" "Yes, madame." Pretty place, eh ?" "Oh, but beautiful, madame ! " "Lots of pretty gowns, I suppose?" "Very pretty, but none perhaps so pretty as madame's." The girl laughed gaily. "You do mean to have a heavy tip," she said. "Shall you still be on this train in a month or two?" "Probably, madame." "Perhaps I shall be going to Monte Carlo then. No such luck this time. Tell us about the casino. What is it like?" Will you allow me to pass, please?" said the plain young woman coldly to the conductor. In the corridor she paused and looked over her shoulder. "I am going to see if my berth is ready," she said. "I shall see you again. Au revoir!" But half an hour later, when she returned to say good-night, her place was occupied by the man "whose wife was a brute." "Let us take a turn along the parade, if you are not too tired," said a young man to his companion. "It is a glorious evening, and, now that the world, the flesh, and the devil have retired, the place is almost bearable." He spoke with a pleasant air of camaraderie, and the plain young woman looked up with a smile. "It is lovely," she said, "and I am not a bit tired; but I am afraid I am Philistine enough to enjoy the world, the flesh, and the devil too." "I must apologize, then, for taking you up to the solitude of the Great Orme.' "I have enjoyed it so much," she said simply. "It has been one of those walks that stand out in one's memory after long years. It is very good to see you again, Fred." Her companion did not answer immediately. "And I am so glad you mean to devote yourself to figure-painting," she went on. "I have always felt sure that was your line. I am certain you will get on now." "It is certainly a line that lends itself to the production of pot-boilers!" he said moodily. One sees "A curious acquaintance!" said the young woman to herself as she slipped "That's an advantage I had not away unobserved, "cuts her point- thought of," she answered, laughing. edly in the dining-car, and, an hour" And yet I don't know. later, settles down for a comfortable plenty of pot-boiler landscapes. You chat in her compartment. know the kind of thing — finikin folifrom such friends!" age, and a boat with reflections in the Save me And with this reflection she betook water." herself to bed. II. THE darkness of an autumn night was settling over Llandudno, but a rich mellow afterglow still shone back from the placid bosom of the sea. Away out on the radiant streak a boat "Yes, I know; like the picture I was so proud of getting into the New!" "I absolutely decline to rise to that, Fred; but I am very glad you mean to stick to figures. I shall look for a great success in May." "And will you provide the subject ?" "I might, if I had one brilliant idea | the distance could they see the outline for your twenty." She paused, and of the motionless little throng; the then laughed softly. "Such an odd wonderful voice came straight out of recollection comes back to me through the darkness of the night. the years, of a picture I planned when I was a girl, and thought I could paint! It was to be called The Shadow of the Cross.'"" "Don't go, Fred!" said the young "This is woman under her breath. magnificent." "Pity to spoil the illusion," he said. "Your acquaintance with contempo-"It is a fine voice. More suited to the rary art must have been limited. How music of Isaiah than to the meetinglong was it before you exclaimed, house rant you will hear presently. Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixer- Come! " ruut!'" "I never said that in my life," she answered proudly; "and on that occasion even my baser nature was in no way tempted to say it, for Holman Hunt's idea was not nostra' at all. The cross did not come into my picture it was supposed to be on the left but the great shadow threw its whole length across; and into the shadow I put all my ideals. I was wonderfully catholic even then. Of course a young priest was the prominent figure; but I had soldiers, and — I forget now who they all were. Some of them accepted the shadow with rapture; some were crowding into it; and some were trying, oh, so hard to get out of it. There was one woman of society whose jewels I revelled in prospect stretching out her arms to the bright in "For an artist and a philosopher, Fred," she said a moment later, "not to add, a man of the world, you are curiously bigoted. Do you expect an abstract statement of the absolute right to convert the world? You are like a scientist who wants to feed himself and his fellows in strict accordance with a physiological table of diet, quite regardless of the fact that they won't eat the food he provides." "Am I?" he said reflectively. "I don't think so. But I prefer to choose my own sauce. "And to scoff at other people's?" "No; but I don't see why I should pretend to share their tastes." "It The young woman sighed. really is the great problem of life," she said, "how to reconcile absolute intellectual honesty with intense emotional ness. Most of her figure was in bril-appreciation of every striving after liant light, but the shadow fell right across. Crude, was not it?" right." They had turned back in their walk, "Very," he replied. "Why didn't and now came again within hearing of you stick to art ?" the preacher's voice profit-"We elder children grope our way "I did; but I found it more able to stick to other people's." "Mine, for instance," he observed cynically. "Yours, for instance." They walked on for some time in silence, till, gradually rising in intensity as they approached, the voice of the preacher fell, full, mellow, and deliberate, on their ears : 66 6 From dark behind to dark before; And only when our hands we lay, Dear Lord, in thine, the night is day, And there is darkness nevermore." "Is that meeting-house rant?" she asked. "It will be directly. He can't stick to quotations forever. Come !" "No; I am going to join in the ser"He was wounded for our trans- vice." She sprang lightly down on the gressions, He was bruised for our beach, and then turned to look up. iniquities: the chastisement of our "You are tired to-night, Fred, and no peace was upon him; and with His wonder. Go home." stripes we are healed.'" The two companions stopped short in something like awe. Only dimly in "You don't want me to come with you?" he asked doubtfully. Certainly not." "Not to-night, I think, thank you." "Oh, but you must! I want to talk I must have some one. Do A lamp by the preacher's side cast They walked on in silence for a an uncertain light on the eager, up-time. "These are my diggings," said turned faces; one might have thought the girl at last, her voice still shaken by that here was a missionary in a heathen strong feeling. "Won't you come in? land, preaching a new gospel of salva- Do! I am all alone." tion. For, whatever doctrine this man might teach, there was no doubt about his power to influence his fellows. That smartly dressed lad in the front row had clearly forgotten where he was; those tears were evidently unusual visitors on the painted cheeks over which they flowed; that beautiful girl Why, where in the world had she seen that beautiful face before? Gradually it all came back to her, the night journey through France, the swaying carriage, the lamp reflected in the window-panes. In this dim light the girl looked lovelier, almost younger, than ever; and yet it must be two? three? years ago. The sermon was over, and a parting hymn rang out plaintively over the water. The young woman descended from her seat, and was about to make her way homewards, when, to her great surprise, the beautiful girl came up to her with outstretched hand. The great eyes were strangely bright, and the muscles of the lovely face quivered in pathetic self-revelation. "I thought it was you," she said eagerly, as though they had only parted the day before. "I saw you come, and during the last hymn it flashed on me who you were. You will let me walk home with you, won't you?" Her voice was almost imploring. "Better let me come with you," said the young woman gently, glancing at the flushed cheeks and ruffled hair. "You look — tired.” to you. I won't be left alone to The full lips pouted like those of a spoilt child, and an expression of terror came into the great eyes, as, with an almost caressing gesture, she drew her companion into the house. A bright little fire burned in the grate of a pretty sitting-room, and a dainty supper was spread on the table. The window stood open, but the air was heavy with the fragrance of flow ers. "If you please, ma'am," said the maid, "Colonel Whyte called while you were out. He said he would come again.” The girl looked at the speaker for a moment with dazed, uncomprehending eyes; but gradually a deep flush spread over her face. "I quite forgot," she said. Then, turning to her companion, she drew her hand across her brow as if trying to collect her thoughts. "It is so odd," she said dreamily, with a nervous shiver, "to find everything going on just precisely as it did before — supper and callers and flowers and a jolly fire! Sit down. I feel as if I were just beginning to wake from an extraordinary dream the sunset and the sea, and the darkness - and that man's voice! I felt almost as if the last day had come, as they used to tell us it would, and it "Tired?" The girl laughed excit- seemed quite natural that you should |