|From the moment of mutual revelation, the relations between Katherine and Felicia underwent a change, not the less appreciable for being subtle. This was inevitable. In fact, Felicia had dreaded the first confidential talk as much as she dreaded the arrival of Raine. But these things are infinitely simpler than we are apt to imagine, by reason of the mere habit of human intercourse. The hours that they spent together at first, passed outwardly as pleasantly as before. But Katherine was more reserved, limited the conversation as much as possible to the ephemeral concrete, and Felicia, keeping a guard over herself, lost somewhat in simplicity of manner. Imperceptibly, however, they drifted apart, and saw less of one another. A tendency towards misjudgment of Katherine was a necessary consequence of the sense of indelicacy under which the girl chafed. The rare utterances of feeling or opinion that the other gave vent to, instead of awakening her sympathy, aroused undefined instincts of antagonism. She sought the old scholar's society more and more, boldly put into execution a project she had long rather tremulously contemplated, and established herself as his amanuensis. When he saw her, with inky fingers and ruffled hair, copying out his crabbed manuscript, he would thank her for her self-sacrifice. But Felicia would look up fervently and shake her head. “You can't tell what a blessed relief it is, Mr. Chetwynd.” So the old man accepted her services gratefully; though, if the truth were known, the trained man of letters, who was accustomed to do everything himself with minute care, was sorely put to it at times as to how to occupy his fair secretary--especially as she, with the conscientiousness of her sex, insisted on scrupulously filling up every moment of the time she devoted to his service. But Katherine smiled sadly and comprehendingly at Felicia's ingenuous strategical movement. “It seems rather a pity you never thought of it before,” she said, one day, kindly. “Regular occupation is a great blessing; it prevents one from growing lackadaisical.” “Yes,” replied Felicia, falling in with her tone; “I am afraid I was beginning to get into evil ways.” With the advent of summer, there was much bustle in the pension, bringing relations into greater harmony. The chatter of millinery filled the air. Ladies ran up against each other in shops, rendered mutual advice, and grew excited over the arrival of each other's parcels. “One touch of _chiffon_ makes the whole world kin,” said Katherine, who looked upon matters with a satirical, yet kindly eye.