"Emma, what do you mean?" asked Hermione, rising and confronting her sister, with wide open, astonished eyes. For Emma's appearance was startling, and might well thrill an observer who had never before seen her gentleness disturbed by a passion as great as she herself might feel. But Emma, at the first sight of this reflection of her own emotions in Hermione's face, calmed her manner, and put a check upon her expression. "If you do not know," said she, "I had rather not be the one to tell you. But never say again that I do not realize your position." "Emma, Emma," pursued Hermione, without a change of tone or any diminution in the agitation of her manner to show that she had heard these words, "have _you_ had a lover and I not know it? Did you give up that _when_----" The elder sister choked; the younger smiled, but with an infinite sadness. "I should not have spoken of it," said she; "I would not have done so, but that I hoped to influence you to look on this affair with different eyes. I--I believe you ought to embrace this new hope, Hermione. Do but tell him----" "_Tell him_! that would be a way to gain him surely." "I do not think it would cause you to lose him; that is, if you could assure him that your heart is free to love him as such a man ought to be loved." The question in these words made Hermione blush and turn away; but her emotion was nothing to that of the quieter sister, who, after she had made this suggestion, stood watching its effect with eyes in which the pain and despair of a year seemed at once to flash forth to light. "I honor him," began Hermione, in a low, broken voice, "but you know it was not honor simply that I felt for----" "Do not speak his name," flashed out Emma. "He--you--do not care for each other, or--or--you and I would never be talking as we are doing here to-night. I am sure you have forgotten him, Hermione, for all your hesitations and efforts to be faithful. I have seen it in your eyes for weeks, I have heard it in your voice when you have spoken to this new friend. Why then deceive yourself; why let a worn-out memory stand in the way of a new joy, a real joy, an unsullied and wholly promising happiness?" "Emma! Emma, what has come to you? You never talked to me like this before. Is it the memory of this folly only that stands in the way of what you so astonishingly advocate? Can a woman situated as I am, give herself up to any hope, any joy?" "Yes, for the situation will change when you yield yourself once again to the natural pleasures of life. I do not believe in the attitude you have taken, Hermione; I have never believed in it, yet I have cheerfully shared it because, because--you know why; do not let us talk of those days." "You do not know all my provocation," quoth Hermione.