The Nest, The White Pagoda, The Suicide, A Forsaken Temple, Miss Jones and The Masterpiece

all disconsolately. He spent several seasons with friends in India; he went to Canada

ouse, he passed a few weeks with Milly and Christina and entir

t it was a sympathy very friendly, even slightly humorous. He would catch her dark eyes sometimes as he sat, a guest at her dinner-table-(he never took Milly in, all the negations of married life were still his)-and in them he saw and responded to an almost affectionate playfulness. He evidently saw the joke and it amused him. Christina often reflected that D

rs. Drent," Dick said to his wife one evening in the drawing-room after dinner. They often had an affable chat before the wondering eyes of th

o like in Christina?" Even in her new tolerance the

ld like Christina, Christina Dick, was wholly delightful, but that Dick should seem to like what she liked for the same reasons irked her a little. It was rather as if he had expressed enthusiasms about her favourite Brahms Rhapsody. She rather wanted to show him that any idea he might entertain of a community of tastes was illusory.

me things in a very different way," she

him, smiling-they were sitting side by side on a lit

ed, quite as dully as she had hoped he w

f the contrast when he looked at her with such unconsciousness; to reassure herself with the expression of it was rather like mocking something blind and deaf and trusting. A sudden pity confused her, and, with a little artificiality of manner which masked the confusion, she went on: "One could never be unhappy without her knowing

mildly at his wife. "Yes

se things in

he smiled. It was almo

good sort; so loyal; she would go through thick and thin for anyone she cared about; and so kind, as you say;

u mean that I used to snub you-and ma

inely distressed, looked his n

t I was oft

at roundabout fashion. Besides, all that's done with long

es fill with tears. She waited to conquer them before saying

e you, Milly?" The request s

to smile at h

re to the point for me t

he had to control a

gain looked away from her, across the room, now, at Christina; and, after a silence, filled for Milly with per

else that he had said which more emphatically held her attention. She thought of it all the evening, after he had gone; and, while her hair was being brushed, she looked at her r

t already her eyes had in them the depth of time lived through, her cheeks and lips were differently sweet; and as the realization

o bid Christina and her good-bye. Composure was a habit, and she was unaware of a new discontent and protest that stirred

letins, to which, as accurately and as laconically, she responded. Thi

the way, to "Narrow shaves," "Nasty rows with natives," an

d, during a sympathetic perusal of these documents which were always handed on to her, as, for any intimacy they contained, they might

deal of danger," said Milly, nibbling

went for," Christina replied,

he table, watched and read. "

n the letter and was g

ear? It's wh

ould hardly affect us more than the death o

hristina. She p

nsisted. "Would you

is elder-sister mode of add

en able to live with count for as m

has counted

would hardly be sorry, and that you wou

xpect you t

e no affection for-a man I

what you meant when you said: 'Poor Dick,'" Christina demonstrated with an air of

earest hour of the day, Christina saw that Milly did not hear her. After these four years of comprehension and mutual forbearance the apparent indifference or preoccupation could not, at first, seriously disturb her; hurt her it always did. Picking up a book she would read and cease to talk. The mood always passed the sooner for not being recognised, and Milly would come out of the cloud, una

trangely, a sudden shyness that made the complete confession o

ould I be?" Milly put an affecti

ywhere you would like to go? I am sure that you are frig

erest me. One comes on these Sahara-like times in life, you know-s

d? You,

id Milly. "Reall

was the recognition of something in her eyes, her voice-something she could not analyze, as if a faint barrier wavered, impalpable, f

rnishing historical memories, Milly showed some of her old girlish eagerness. She and Christina even read the Greek tragedies over together, in order, Milly said, that they should steep themselves in the proper atmosphere. It was therefore with a shock of bitter surprise and disappointment that Christina, only a fortnight before the time fixed for their departure, heard Milly announce, with evident openness, though she flushed slightly, that she thought she would rather put of

convinced of her own misinterpretation. Duty had called Milly away from pleasure, an

said. "And of course we will go down to welcome home t

g quite a virtuous woman," she said. "A

y, with still her new cheerfulness, flitted in the spring sunshine from shop to shop, decking herself i

of jocund revival, shared the radiance. All barriers seemed gone, were it not

ens. She came in laden with flowers, and the house smiled with their pale gold, their innocent and fragile gaiety.

country, the spring, the sunshine, the ver

looking at the sky, "and how one feels them all here. Oh, the cuckoo,

na; of regret-regret for something gone; lost fo

she saw Dick Quentyn spring up the steps to greet his wife at the threshold of the h

her eyes. She looked at the bronzed, stalwart, smiling being with as open and happy a gaze as though he had been an oak-tree. The happiness

than once during the day; and, "I say, how jolly those

him. "I gathered them, Dick, all of them,

uentyn ejaculated with

l that it was only with a shock of amazement that she recognized its monstrousness as applied to the actual one. She leave Milly alone with her husband! What a revolution in all their relations would such a withdrawal hav

rm while they walked and listened to Dick's laconic

is sort for a very long time, Dick," said Milly. "I expected every

Dick objected, "and I think I'll have to have anothe

are going

aid Dick. "He is a splendid fello

lone looking out at the evening. "As inseparable as ever, you and Milly, a

im. She smiled with an emphasis that was faintly def

"Has she been doing too much this winter? You are frightfully bus

e," said Christina. "She was a little fagged, perhaps;

y nice to me. I don't remember her ever having been so nice-since, I mean, we decided that we couldn't hit it

was full of an odd repression, discouragement, but Dick was altogethe

e? Really? That was awfu

t Milly had only expressed in

d interest-interest and a knowledge horribly surprising to Christina-Dick talked with unusual fluency. Christina looked at them and listened to them, while Milly, leaning an arm on the table, gazed with gravely shining eyes at her husband. The arm, the eyes, the lines of the throat, were very lovely. Christin

that so overwhelmed her? or the sense of some utter change in her darling-a change so gradual that until its accomplishment it had seemed madness to recognize it? The moment of recognition came one day, when, on going into the library, she foun

tment went over her own face, for Milly jumped up, eagerly, too eagerly, and pulled

d she been in the jungles of Africa with her husband she could not have been further; and she was greeting her as though she were a guest

he intention of finding it, a volume of frothy eighteenth century French memoirs she could not have told-and, smiling again upon them with unconstrain

ld trace the gradual, the dreadful severance; Milly's slow loss of interest in her and in their life together. It was at first only for the fact of loss that she wept, that loss, only, she could look at. But by degrees, as he

she? How could love and truest sympathy,

ger to be evaded broke over her. It was the simplest while the most absurd of truths. Milly was falling in love; Milly was falling in love with Dick; and she was frank and happy because she did not know it; and he did not know it. Like two children with a fresh day of play and sunshine before them, they were engaged in merry, trivial games, picnics, make-believes, no thought of sentiment or emotion in them to account for the new sympathy; but from these games they would return hand in hand, all in all to each other, bound together in the lover's illusio

me? Had she not come already? In her eyes, her smiles, the empty caressing of her voice, was there not already the most profound indifference? And all the forces of Christina's nature rose in rebellion. She felt the rebellion like the onslaught of angels of light against powers of darkness; it was the ideal doing battle with some primal, instinctive force. She must fight for Milly and for herself. For she, too, had her claim. She measured herself beside Dick Quentyn, her needs beside his. His life was cheerful, contented, complete; hers without Milly would be a warped, a meaningless, a broken life. Stra

n't I interrupting you? Don't you read or talk or do

want to talk to Christina; she wanted to go on talking to Dick. She had not as yet realized that Christina's presence had become an interruption, a burden; Christina's personality had seem

will have heaps of time for talking and reading when

s meaning, gazed at the blush, and then th

orced to draw her in; when she pretended to see nothing, Milly must pretend-to her and to Dick-that there was nothing to see. Milly was afraid of her; that became apparent to her during the ensuing days, terrible, lovely days of spring, when, as if with drawn breath and cold, measuring eye, she crossed an abyss on a narrow plank laid above the emptiness. Milly was afraid; of her scorn and incredulity, perhaps; perhaps only of her pain. Milly was cowardly in her shrinking from g

ina to Greece. This was said in Dick's presence and he cheerfully acquiesced. Christina wondered if Milly had not hoped for some protest or suggestion from him. In Dick's blindness lay, she began to see, an even greater hope than in Milly's cowardice. Milly could not very well come to her and avow her love for Dick when Dick, it was evident, did not dream of avowing his for her. And Milly became aware of this as she did. Her manner towards Dick changed. She rallied him with a touc

eak through the web with an avowal. She was longing that Christina, if Dick remained blind, should mercifully give Dick and her their chance. Christina knew the horrible risk she ran in rema

ience with him. His stupidity helped her as nothing else could have helped; yet, while she blessed it, she could feel for Milly, and actually, while she blessed, resent it. It was true that she read in his eyes a slight shyness as they rested upon his wife. He was bewildered, and it was evident he was not happy. And Milly had dropped her shield of flippancy. She sat silent, absent, absorbed, looking up at her husband now and then, with curious eye

edge of Milly's nature, Christina could gauge, with a dreadful accuracy, what the strength of the feeling must be that could nerve her, rising and saunteri

ifully stupid. His stare might really have been

"Aren't you and Mr

ur arrangement

come for

At el

gladness. She and Milly were left alone. Milly, still with the sauntering step, went to the mantelpiece and touched her hair, looking in the glass. "Dear me,

r hand to hide a yawn. "It's our usual hour;-that's why I ask. But you meant him to understand that you wan

rse you are coming,"

ristina measured the depth of estrangement in all that the flexible, di

e walk alone," she insisted. "He will expect it now. I'm s

ng so unlikely," said Milly. "It

in her room and sleep through the afternoon and be fit and fresh for the play that night. Christina knew in an instant that a last desperate hope cowered beneath the affected languor and lightness; and it watched her, feverishly, like the eyes of a tracked animal creeping in an underbrush past enemies' guns. When she replied, kissing her friend tenderly, that a good rest was the best of cures for a headache and that she herself would do some shopping and go to the tea for which they were engaged, these large, sick eyes of Milly's hope and fear widened and shone with a recovered security. She wanted to be left alone

e, and she must walk up and down Sloane Street for perhaps nearly two hours. If she lay in wait in the house, Milly, who no doubt was already up and dressed and waiting, would discover her. Milly, too, might be watching from the drawing-room windows. Her peril was desperate, and her safest course was to walk on the side of the street near the house where Milly could n

ck she had the most unalarming and casual air. She seemed to have just stepped from her own doorway. She

lly stop and speak to me? You're not

His face showed his uncertai

n fact-I was on my way to your house. I thought I'd have

little sleep this afternoon and particularly asked that she shouldn't be disturbed. We

ed almost haggard, turned obediently and walked beside her. He walked silently for a little way, while Christina talked, then, as they came ou

se," said Christina

ring her weakness with a desperate effort. Dick did not notice her pallor. "You see," he said, leaning forward and boring small holes in the gravel with the point of his stick-"You see,-I think I must tell you-ask you for your advice-because you know Milly s

on't think it was ever that-of late years-since you'd so tactful

r puzzled, assented. "And I mean, by caring, that she seemed so

you now, you see; just becaus

secu

that you'll never ask anything of her,

er did do that, as far as I r

o deeply appreciates,

g. Then Dick, groping painfully among his impressions, put forward another. "She did mind, very

her impressions and memories, seemed to hear a reiterated "No lies; above all, no lies." But he had put the we

what she did feel, I must tell you the truth. You want the truth, don't you? It is much better-for you and for Milly, isn't it, that there should be no misunderstandings?"-Dick nodded-his eyes fixed on her. "What Milly said,

fter a moment, turned dazed eyes away

from a far distance, the strange, hushed quality of

have minded mo

f a man for whom she had no affection, a man she had almost hated. Mr. Quentyn, I am so grieved for you.

ndrons. "I wonder why she wanted me to come for a walk this morning. Yes, I did have false hopes.

eant you to have the walk alone. But as soon as you were gone she insisted on my coming with you. I've tried to

tion-on Dick's face; but of incredulity not a trace. "

ugh her, horridly painful. "I am so dreadfully sorry," she murmured. "I had to tel

fectly underst

ied whisper, said: "You have been splendid. I can't tell you how I feel it. If I can ever-at any time-do anything--" It was the truth, y

Dick, as she broke away, saw that