A Mental Struggle. 10/
says, tui-uing towards the door. But the woman, hurrying
after her, lays her hand rrpon her arm.
" One miurrte, dear," she entreats. " Tell me now, is it
thrue what I hear-, that ye've given yerself to the young
lord stayin' wid Mrs. De-i-erill V'
The words, though softly spoken, ai'e, in the small
I'oom. distinctly audible to Felix.
" It may be," retrrrns Imogen, with her slow, lovely
smile. '• Moi*e irnlikely things have happened. But 2
have heard nothing about it.''
Although her tone is so self-possessed, she cannot re¬
strain the warm colorrr that rises, and crimsons her cheek ;
and seeing it, Felix, in spite of the comfort conveyed by
her words, feels bis heart sink within him. He places the
little boy gently on the floor.
" May I come with you ? " he asks Imogen, as she once
more moves towards the entr-ance. And having received
a polite, if cold, permission, he bids his whilom hostess a
courteorrs adietr, and follows Imogen into the growirrg
darkness of the mystic night. The child, runnmg after
them, holds out his arms, not to Imogen, but to Felix—a
little glowuig figure in the gathering twilight. Felix
kisses him, and so does Miss Heriot; brrt there is some¬
thing in her face, as she rises from the embrace, that
Felix cannot read.
'• Yorr see, you really did conqtrer," she says, as they
once more proceed homewards. '' Those words of mine, if
" hard," as yotr called them, were just."
" Perhaps so. But surely they apply to women more
than to men.''
"The greatest student of human nattrre the world ever
saw does not agree with you. What does Shakespeare
say ? Have you forgotten ?
" ' O Heaien ! Were man
But constant, he were perfect; that cue error
Fills him with faults.'''
' A gentle jrrdgment! " protests Felix lightly. " One
err-or ! Is that all that can be laid to otrr charge ? "
" But gucli a one ! It ' fills you wdth faults !~"' "
'■ Now you ai-e playing with youi' quotation—making