sank at her feet. The elder woman recognised, and knew. She made no effort to restrain her; but sinking back into her own seat laid the girl’s head in her lap, and held her hands close against her breast.

‘Tell me,’ she whispered. ‘Won’t you tell me, dear child, what troubles you? Tell me! dear. It may bring peace!’

‘Oh, I am miserable, miserable, miserable!’ moaned Stephen in a low voice whose despair made the other’s heart grow cold. The Silver Lady knew that here golden silence was the best of help; holding close the other’s hands, she waited. Stephen’s breast began to heave; with an impulsive motion she drew away her hands and put them before her burning face, which she pressed lower still on the other’s lap.