"Ah," said Mr Carisbrooke dryly, "ah, Mr Riddell, you keep your soul for your poem, not for real life. You write of passion, you don't believe in it." He moved away before Sylvester could reply, and made his way into the group round Amethyst. Sylvester had no excuse for following him, and presently saw that he had engaged her attention, and was talking to her with earnestness. She turned her head, and Sylvester perceived that she was attentive, interested, and presently a bystander remarked-- "Miss Haredale is looking like her picture." CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW. "Amethyst, Amethyst, I must talk to you. I can't bear it by myself. Oh, that man, I hate and I loathe him, and my own self! But I can't get him out of my eyes or my mind, his face blots everything else out. Oh, don't make me come down to-night!" This despairing outcry met Amethyst's ears, as, late in the afternoon of the day after the _soiree_ at the Art Gallery, she came into the little up-stairs sitting-room appropriated to her sisters and herself. Una was lying on a couch by the window. She raised herself, stretching out her hands, as if for help in dire distress, and Amethyst, putting down the flowers she was carrying, came and knelt down by her side. "Now, Una, there's a dear child, don't begin to cry about it. Of course we both hate the sight of him. But he was sure to turn up some time, and you mustn't put yourself into an agony about it." Una hid her face in the comforting arms, the very touch of which brought strength to her. "I was afraid you might worry yourself," continued Amethyst, "but I haven't had a chance of looking after you before. If you stay away to-night, it will still have to be done some time. Take it as easy as you can." "I thought he had dropped my lady," whispered Una. "Well, you know, they had some intercourse when the amethysts--Ah! talk of hating, I should like to throw them into the sea--when they were got back. It would look very odd if he cut us. And as for you, darling, you are so different now--like another person." Una turned round and looked up into her sister's face. "Am I so changed?" she said. "Why, yes, no one would know you for the same silly little girl," said Amethyst, jestingly, but she felt, as she spoke, that her words gave a pang. "Change is best for us both," she said steadily, with a certain sombre look in the eyes that were bent on Una's.