occurred。　　She　explained　them；　good　temperedly；　and　the　waiter；　with　profuse　apologies；　went　back　to　have　it　corrected。
  He　turned　to　her　as　the　man　went。　　〃Try　and　forgive　me；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。　　〃It　all　came　tumbling　out　before　I　thought　what　I　was　saying。〃
  The　blood　was　flowing　back　into　her　veins。　　〃Oh；　it　wasn't　your　fault；〃　she　answered。　　〃We　must　make　the　best　we　can　of　it。〃
  He　bent　forward　so　that　he　could　see　into　her　eyes。
  〃Tell　me；〃　he　said。　　There　was　a　note　of　fierce　exultation　in　his　voice。　　〃I'll　promise　never　to　speak　of　it　again。　　If　I　had　been　a　free　man；　could　I　have　won　you？〃
  She　had　risen　while　he　was　speaking。　　She　moved　to　him　and　laid　her　hands　upon　his　shoulders。
  〃Will　you　serve　me　and　fight　for　me　against　all　my　enemies？〃　she　asked。
  〃So　long　as　I　live；〃　he　answered。
  She　glanced　round。　　There　was　no　sign　of　the　returning　waiter。　　She　bent　over　him　and　kissed　him。
  〃Don't　come　with　me；〃　she　said。　　〃There's　a　cab　stand　in　the　Avenue。　　I　shall　walk　to　Sevres　and　take　the　train。〃
  She　did　not　look　back。
  CHAPTER　XII
  She　reached　home　in　the　evening。　　The　Phillips's　old　rooms　had　been　twice　let　since　Christmas；　but　were　now　again　empty。　　The　McKean　with　his　silent　ways　and　his　everlasting　pipe　had　gone　to　America　to　superintend　the　production　of　one　of　his　plays。　　The　house　gave　her　the　feeling　of　being　haunted。　　She　had　her　dinner　brought　up　to　her　and　prepared　for　a　long　evening's　work；　but　found　herself　unable　to　thinkexcept　on　the　one　subject　that　she　wanted　to　put　off　thinking　about。　　To　her　relief　the　last　post　brought　her　a　letter　from　Arthur。　　He　had　been　called　to　Lisbon　to　look　after　a　contract；　and　would　be　away　for　a　fortnight。　　Her　father　was　not　as　well　as　he　had　been。
  It　seemed　to　just　fit　in。　　She　would　run　down　and　spend　a　few　quiet　days　at　Liverpool。　　In　her　old　familiar　room　where　the　moon　peeped　in　over　the　tops　of　the　tall　pines　she　would　be　able　to　reason　things　out。　　Perhaps　her　father　would　be　able　to　help　her。　　She　had　lost　her　childish　conception　of　him　as　of　someone　prim　and　proper；　with　cut　and　dried　formulas　for　all　occasions。　　That　glimpse　he　had　shown　her　of　himself　had　established　a　fellowship　between　them。　He；　too；　had　wrestled　with　life's　riddles；　not　sure　of　his　own　answers。　　She　found　him　suffering　from　his　old　heart　trouble；　but　more　cheerful　than　she　had　known　him　for　years。　　Arthur　seemed　to　be　doing　wonders　with　the　men。　　They　were　coming　to　trust　him。
  〃The　difficulty　I　have　always　been　up　against；〃　explained　her　father；　〃has　been　their　suspicion。　　'What's　the　cunning　old　rascal　up　to　now？　　What's　his　little　game？'　　That　is　always　what　I　have　felt　they　were　thinking　to　themselves　whenever　I　have　wanted　to　do　anything　for　them。　　It　isn't　anything　he　says　to　them。　　It　seems　to　be　just　he；　himself。〃
  He　sketched　out　their　plans　to　her。　　It　seemed　to　be　all　going　in　at　one　ear　and　out　at　the　other。　　What　was　the　matter　with　her？　Perhaps　she　was　tired　without　knowing　it。　　She　would　get　him　to　tell　her　all　about　it　to…morrow。　　Also；　to…morrow；　she　would　tell　him　about　Phillips；　and　ask　his　advice。　　It　was　really　quite　late。　If　he　talked　any　more　now；　it　would　give　her　a　headache。　　She　felt　it　coming　on。
  She　made　her　〃good…night〃　extra　affectionate；　hoping　to　disguise　her　impatience。　　She　wanted　to　get　up　to　her　own　room。
  But　even　that　did　not　help　her。　　It　seemed　in　some　mysterious　way　to　be　no　longer　her　room；　but　the　room　of　someone　she　had　known　and　half　forgotten：　　who　would　never　come　back。　　It　gave　her　the　same　feeling　she　had　experienced　on　returning　to　the　house　in　London：　that　the　place　was　haunted。　　The　high　cheval　glass　from　her　mother's　dressing…room　had　been　brought　there　for　her　use。　　The　picture　of　an　absurdly　small　childthe　child　to　whom　this　room　had　once　belongedstanding　before　it　naked；　rose　before　her　eyes。　　She　had　wanted　to　see　herself。　　She　had　thought　that　only　her　clothes　stood　in　the　way。　　If　we　could　but　see　ourselves；　as　in　some　magic　mirror？　　All　the　garments　usage　and　education　has　dressed　us　up　in　laid　aside。　　What　was　she　underneath　her　artificial　niceties；　her　prim　moralities；　her　laboriously　acquired　restraints；　her　unconscious　pretences　and　hypocrisies？　　She　changed　her　clothes　for　a　loose　robe；　and　putting　out　the　light　drew　back　the　curtains。　The　moon　peeped　in　over　the　top　of　the　tall　pines；　but　it　only　stared　at　her；　indifferent。　　It　seemed　to　be　looking　for　somebody　else。
  Suddenly；　and　intensely　to　her　own　surprise；　she　fell　into　a　passionate　fit　of　weeping。　　There　was　no　reason　for　it；　and　it　was　altogether　so　unlike　her。　　But　for　quite　a　while　she　was　unable　to　control　it。　　Gradually；　and　of　their　own　accord；　her　sobs　lessened；　and　she　was　able　to　wipe　her　eyes　and　take　stock　of　herself　in　the　long　glass。　　She　wondered　for　the　moment　whether　it　was　really　her　own　reflection　that　she　saw　there　or　that　of　some　ghostly　image　of　her　mother。　　She　had　so　often　seen　the　same　look　in　her　mother's　eyes。　　Evidently　the　likeness　between　them　was　more　extensive　than　she　had　imagined。　　For　the　first　time　she　became　conscious　of　an　emotional；　hysterical　side　to　her　nature　of　which　she　had　been　unaware。　　Perhaps　it　was　just　as　well　that　she　had　discovered　it。　She　would　have　to　keep　a　stricter　watch　upon　herself。　　This　question　of　her　future　relationship　with　Phillips：　　it　would　have　to　be　thought　out　coldly；　dispassionately。　　Nothing　unexpected　must　be　allowed　to　enter　into　it。
  It　was　some　time　before　she　fell　asleep。　　The　high　glass　faced　her　as　she　lay　in　bed。　　She　could　not　get　away　from　the　idea　that　it　was　her　mother's　face　that　every　now　and　then　she　saw　reflected　there。
  She　woke　late　the　next　morning。　　Her　father　had　already　left　for　the　works。　　She　was　rather　glad　to　have　no　need　of　talking。　　She　would　take　a　long　walk　into　the　country；　and　face　the　thing　squarely　with　the　help　of　the　cheerful　sun　and　the　free　west　wind　that　was　blowing　from　the　sea。　　She　took　the　train　up　north　and　struck　across　the　hills。　　Her　spirits　rose　as　she　walked。
  It　was　only　the　intellectual　part　of　him　she　wantedthe　spirit；　not　the　man。　　She　would　be　taking　nothing　away　from　the　woman；　nothing　that　had　ever　belonged　to　her。　　All　the　rest　of　him：　　his　home　life；　the　benefits　that　would　come　to　her　from　his　improved　means；　from　his　social　position：　　all　that　the　woman　had　ever　known　or　cared　for　in　him　would　still　be　hers。　　He　would　still　remain　to　her　the　kind　husband　and　father。　　What　more　was　the　woman　capable　of　understanding？　　What　more　had　she　any　right　to　demand？
  It　was　not　of　herself　she　was　thinking。　　It　was　for　his　work's　sake　that　she　wanted　to　be　near　to　him　always：　　that　she　might　counsel　him；　encourage　him。　　For　this　she　was　prepared　to　sacrifice　herself；　give　up　her　woman's　claim　on　life。　　They　would　be　friends；　comradesnothing　more。　　That　little　lurking　curiosity　of　hers；　concerning　what　it　would　be　like　to　feel　his　strong　arms　round　her；　pressing　her　closer　and　closer　to　him：　　it　was　only　a　foolish　fancy。　　She　could　easily　laugh　that　out　of　herself。　　Only　bad　women　had　need　to　be　afraid　of　themselves。　　She　would　keep　guard　for　both　of　them。　　Their　purity　of　motive；　their　high　purpose；　would　save　them　from　the　danger　of　anything　vulgar　or　ridiculous。
  Of　course　they　would　have　to　be　careful。　　There　must　be　no　breath　of　gossip；　no　food　for　evil　tongues。　　About　that　she　was　determined　even　more　for　his　sake　than　her　own。　　It　would　be　fatal　to　his　career。　　She　was　quite　in　agreement　with　the　popular　demand；　supposed　to　be　peculiarly　English；　that　a　public　man's　life　should　be　above　reproach。　　Of　what　use　these　prophets　without　self…　control；　these　social　reformers　who　could　not　shake　the　ape　out　of　themselves？　　Only　the　brave　could　give　courage　to　others。　　Only　through　the　pure　could　God's　light　shine　upon　men。
  It　was　vexing　his　having　moved　round　the　corner；　into　North　Street。　Why　couldn't　the　silly　woman　have　been　content　where　she　was。　Living　under　one　roof；　they　could　have　seen　one　another　as　often　as　was　needful　without　attracting　attention。　　Now；　she　supposed；　she　would　have　to　be　more　than　ever　the　bosom　friend　of　Mrs。　Phillips　spend　hours　amid　that　hideous　furniture；　surrounded　by　those　bilious　wallpapers。　　Of　course　he　could　not　come　to　her。　　She　hoped　he　would　appreciate　the　sacrifice　she　would　be　making　for　him。　Fortunately　Mrs。　Phillips　would　give　no　trouble。　　She　would　not　even　understand。
  What　about　Hilda？　　No　hope　of　hiding　their　secret　from　those　sharp　eyes。　　But　Hilda　would　approve。　　They　could　trust　Hilda。　　The　child　might　prove　helpful。
  It　cast　a　passing　shadow　upon　her　spirits；　this　necessary　descent　into　details。　　It　brought　with　it　the　suggestion　of　intrigue；　of　deceit：　　robbing　the　thing；　to　a　certain　extent；　of　its　fineness。　Still；　what　was　to　be　done？　　If　women　were　coming　into　public　life　these　sort　of　relationships　with　men　would　have　to　be　faced　and　worked　out。　　Sex　must　no　longer　be　allowed　to　interfere　with　the　working　together　of　men　and　women　for　common　ends。　　It　was　that　had　kept　the　world　back。　　They　would　be　the　pioneers　of　the　new　order。　Casting　aside　their　earthly　passions；　humbly　with　pure　hearts　they　would　kneel　before　God's　altar。　　He　shoul