 that I had done any good—'

'But,' said Rhoda, with a searching glance, 'you don't wish me to repeat what you have said?'

'It was only for you. I thought—if you felt able to let Mr. Barfoot know that you had no longer any—'

A flash of stern intelligence shot from the listener's eyes.

'You have seen him then?' she asked with abrupt directness.

'Not since.'

'He has written to you?'—still in the same voice.

'Indeed he has not. Mr. Barfoot never wrote to me. I know nothing whatever about him. No one asked me to come to you—don't think that. No one knows of what I have been telling you.'

Again Rhoda was oppressed by the difficulty of determining how much credit was due to such assertions. Monica understood her look.

'As I have said so much I must tell you all. It would be dreadful after this to go away uncertain whether you believed me or not.'

Human feeling prompted the listener to declare that she had no doubts left. Yet she could not give utterance to the words. She knew they would sound forced, insincere. Shame at inflicting shame caused her to bend her head. Already she had been silent too long.

'I will tell you everything,' Monica was saying in low, tremulous tones. 'If no one else believes me, you at all events shall. I have not done what—'

'No—I can't hear this,' Rhoda broke in, the speaker's voice affecting her too powerfully. 'I will believe you without this.'

Monica broke into sobbing. The strain of this last effort had overtaxed her strength.

'We won't talk any more of it,' said Rhoda, with an endeavour to speak kindly. 'You have done all that could be asked of you. I am grateful to you for coming on my account.

The other controlled herself.

'Will you hear what I have to say, Miss Nunn? Will you hear it as a friend? I want to put myself right in your thoughts. I have told no one else; I shall be easier in mind if you will hear me. My husband will know everything before very long—but perhaps I shall not be alive—'

Something in Miss Nunn's face suggested to Monica that her meaning was understood. Perhaps, notwithstanding her denial, Virginia had told more when she was here than she had permission to make known.

'Why should you wish
