"Her money," a voice seemed to reply; and to Delicia Mainwaring the answer seemed undoubtedly the probable one. For a woman of her nature

was perfectly certain to accredit with the highest motives those whom she liked. She might be

blinded through ignorance of the world, but she would never willingly set herself to worship a low ideal; and out of the depths of her own pure, loyal mind, would she judge of the actions of others.

So after an hour's reflection she rose up, feeling worried and perplexed perhaps, but yet, through it all, happy. He cared for her at any rate as a friend; and if as a lover-well, if later on it proved that it were so, then the spectre that must be hidden out of sight at present might venture forth and clothe itself with flesh and blood. And if not? Well, if such time never came, then either she had been mistaken, in which case the friendship would remain even if the love proved to have been only a dream; or if it were not so, and the love was there, only hidden away out of sight because he was too proud to take what he could not offer—well, it was a pride she could sympathise with, even whilst feeling it was mistaken.

From all which you will see Delicia Mainwaring was not a love-sick girl, willing to sacrifice everything to the fancied good of the minute; but neither was she a silly woman who would do nothing to help herself, thus tempting the arrows of an unpropitious fate, which you will see for yourself by observing her next act, which was to seat herself at a writing-table, and with pens, ink, and paper

before her, set herself to the composition of two letters. The first was the more difficult of the two, and took her some time to write, short as it was. Much thought was necessary between each

sentence.

ANNE SQUARE.

DEAR MISS STEVENS,-I should like you to become acquainted with a young friend of mine, whom your brother saw here to-day. I daresay he may have mentioned her name to you, Miss Cicely Arbuthnot. If you and your sister would come over on Friday about five o'clock, I would ask her to meet you. If your brother could be persuaded to bring you I should be very glad to see him also, although I know "tea-parties," however small, are not in his way. I am afraid there is no use asking your mother?—Yours truly,

10th November.

DELICIA MAINWARING.

Miss Mainwaring folded this letter, sealed it, and then remained for some minutes buried in thought.

"Yes, that will do," she then said-for, like many people who live much alone, she had acquired a habit of speaking aloud to herself, more especially when perplexed or troubled. "First of all, the definite invitation will, I think, prevent his coming between this and Friday. That in itself will be a good thing, as perhaps it has not been wise seeing so very much of him as I have done lately. And then, if they come, as I think they are sure to do, I

shall see him with others, and be able to judge better how much reliance may be placed on his manner and words to me."

The second letter, with the invitation to Miss Arbuthnot, was soon written, and it was with a brighter countenance Delicia rang for the servant to take them to the post. A lonely dinner and a long solitary evening would be to most of us but a melancholy affair; but to Delicia, accustomed as she had been all her life more or less to solitude, that of itself did not weigh upon her spirits. Books and work caused the evening to pass only too quickly as a rule, but to-night it was very different.

She had undergone to-day a new experience, and all new experiences leave effects behind them, in the shape of fatigue, depression, excitement, or exhaustion, and thus it was with Delicia. A book could not interest her, because between the lines she read of a possible future; she was too restless even to sing or play; and even needlework, that refuge of anxious womanhood, was too calm, too monotonous an occupation to prove a satisfactory outlet for her feelings. Very early she gave up the pretence of doing anything, and drawing a chair up to the fire, in memory went over and over again the words and thoughts of this afternoon.

The calm Delicia was quite perturbed out of her usual quiet, for as is always the case, the blasting of a rock had caused a greater commotion than the perpetual shifting of a sand-bank. In a dreamy way she presently walked over to the window, and

drawing back the curtain, looked out into the dreary winter night, and then across to where the lights twinkled opposite in the windows of No. 39.

"If" she said at length, and her lips softened as she spoke, and a tenderer, more womanly light shone in her eyes than was their wont. "If it is indeed THAT he means, then the crown of life that I have sometimes dreamed of is, after all, going to be given to me!" And an hour later, as she walked up the old-fashioned staircase, candle in hand, with smoke - grimed portraits staring down upon her from the walls, there, once again, she repeated to herself, "If" dreamily, softly; once again her eyes grew tender and her lips parted into a smile.

And the old city merchant, beneath whose portrait she had paused and uttered the significant little word, seemed, in the flickering light of the candle she held, to smile in contempt at the woman who could make herself happy, even for one hour, on an "if," when the "if" was subject to a man's caprice.

34

CHAPTER IV.

MIEUX ÊTRE QUE PARAÎTRE.

"Ah me, my friend! There is no perfect friend."

DELICIA'S surmises in both cases proved correct. Her invitation for Friday was accepted, and there were no visits on the intervening days. The said days, passed all alone, had seemed rather long, and the dreary November weather drearier than ever; but they were over now, and Delicia Mainwaring, in a delicate silver-grey dress with ruffles of lace about it, and a small bunch of ferns under her round, white chin, is seated in her drawing-room, a book in her hand, awaiting the advent of her visitors.

So much for the interior of No. 1 Anne Square; now for No. 39.

"Betty, may I ask when you are going to dress for Miss Mainwaring's tea? Do you know that it is half-past four now?"

The girl who spoke had a bright, sunshiny face with blue eyes, which looked as if they could, on occasion, twinkle with fun; the girl whom she