Bella looked at her. “That’s true,” she said, quite low. “You would have shown that you were sorry for me, even in the middle of being happy yourself. You could have done it and not hurt. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. The nearest I could come to it was just to pretend I thought you’d got over it—that you didn’t care any longer.” They looked at each other a moment without speaking. Bella with quivering face glided forward. “Dearest, dearest”—she took Hildegarde’s hand, she caught it to her breast. “You aren’t going to let him—the Other—spoil _two_ lives!” “At least I’m ready to risk what’s sure to happen.” “What’s sure to happen?” “His coming while I’m away.” Hildegarde flung out the words with a passion Bella had never seen in her before. “Yes, that’s what will happen. I shall have waited for him at home here all my life _till_ this summer. And this summer, while I’m gone, he’ll come to Valdivia. You’ll see! He’ll come.” CHAPTER XIII No prevision of Hildegarde’s as to Cheviot’s disapproval of her plan approached the degree to which he fought against her going to the North. Mrs. Mar, secretly dismayed at her husband’s willingness to stay away indefinitely, was not ill-content for once to see the “stolid Hildegarde” stirred to action. It satisfied a need in the mother, that the daughter had never ministered to before. Hildegarde was the sort of girl who could take excellent care of herself, and her health was superb. She had no important concerns such as the boys had to chain them at home. She was not the mother of a family, nor even president of the Shakspere Society. The welfare of the Hindus would be wholly unaffected by her departure. The journey was quite unlike that terrible one involved in going to the Klondike. It could be made in a comfortable ship; the whole of it by sea. Her mother would go with her to the steamer, and Hildegarde would stay on board till her father met her at the Alaskan port. But they had all reckoned without Cheviot. He refused to take the idea seriously at first, and when he did—oh, he was serious enough then! “The maddest scheme that ever entered a sane head!” Hildegarde had no conception of what such a journey was like. The ships were the most uncomfortable in the world. Freight boats, with no accommodation for women. The food appalling. The company—oh, it didn’t even bear talking about! But Cheviot did talk of it, to Bella, when he discovered her complicity, and so effectually he talked that she withdrew her support. Hildegarde was speechless with indignation. What spell had he cast that Bella could “go back” on her word. Truly a thing to depend upon—Bella’s friendship. “Oh, please try to understand. I was always frightened at the idea, even before Louis told me—”