Paths of Judgement

occupation a cover for a conversation significant, Felicia felt at once, but feigning desultoriness. Mrs. Merrick's mind was of the order that infers matrimonial projects from the smallest

than a disastrous one; but Mr. Wynne was in no sense a good match, although he might be a luxury to which Lady Angela could treat herself.

upon the rapid friendship. "You know," she said, laying the one magazine upo

and rose-hedges where she had been happily strolling. She could almost see a flexible, inquiring snout pushing between the palings, above it the scrutiny of an observant eye. The simile so softened the displeasure that her

lly since it is said that he is all but engage

is friendships a menace to h

I did not say that he was engaged, merely that he had admired h

dow on to the lawn. In spite of the lightness of her tone, the grunt had come as an ugly interruption in a melodious mood. To hear such things did affect the two days' friendship, though she did not believe them. She had known him for only two days, but t

ze her own hurt and almost angry mood as she approached them and smiled at them in passing. But Angela, with a winning hand held out, detained her. "You are so fond of walking. Won't you come with us? Just about the grounds?" she said. Sh

cia, feeling a slight confusi

one cares for, has even more, perhaps,

o much of it,

eace, much happiness, much growth. You and your father on your hill-top; Maurice has told me of it." Again she smiled fr

ope. I only meant that there was no one else to talk to, and th

possible jealousy; she could exonerate herself from the pettiness, though wondering if the deeper cause were more creditable. What creditable cause could there be for disliking Lady Angela, so exquisite, so tender, holding her hand so

dressed-a wan Aphrodite rising through faint foam. Ridiculous, indeed, Felicia thought, that this spiritual creature should arouse in her a Puritanic rigour, so that she was glad of the crisp creak of her own linen frock, stiff with much laundering, quite ba

may I? I can't tell you how people interest me. I have always loved to look at other people's lives-

think-don't you?" and her smil

r meddle with you, Miss Merrick, if she longs to; it

bout the village people. There seems so much to be done; and so much apathy, so much deadness. I am afraid it is a struggle for your poor aunt, and of course she has not the gift, the grace, the charm that you could bring to the struggle

ness of Lady Angela's signature; "I don't know anything about the charities here. We never go to church, and the charities are con

there was silence for quite a long moment while they turned among the laurels of the shrubb

for herself in all their eyes, if need be. After all, they were not her life, and for having fancied herself a part, p

your father's interests, your interests, are intellectual, not ethical. You haven't had an opportunity for thinking about all the responsibilities of this difficult life of ours. I should love to talk to you abo

g a whimsical humour in the situation. He must sympathize with Angela. How could he not? Did not she herself sympathize? Were not these thoughts her own familiar thoughts? Yet her one impulse was to disown them when put be

," she said; "I cer

ou call that doing nothing? And you were telling me last evening of the teas you loved giving in the garden to the vi

"How can you say you do nothing? I am so glad you have the children-so glad that yo

erous palace, and don't intend to come out of it, either, a

now asked, "Might not a shrine, conceivab

gry discomposure. She would not be drawn into a contest with Angela; she would not bid for approbation. That she seemed to

that make me wonder whether you have not very delicate perceptions as well as a ruthless will. I don't quite know what, to your mind, your meaning may be, but to mine it is deep. Any hei

ela." Geoffrey watched his last, and very

ies some sanct

aven't much faith in

hing, Ge

lden head as he turned to smile at Angela with, Felicia felt, impla

ines and palaces I shall feel that I am creeping into a ditch

suddenly, smiling closely into her eyes. "What is the book?" She be

ut there is a certain splendour to be found

m; "Don't read him. A lily

the Olympian was looking at her and that she was flushing. Her detached student's interest was probably branded in all their eyes with some crude

or child! What a milieu! An infi

ed a lily, you see

ela. "Poor child.