The little nurse had seen her out. Edith saw that she had been crying. Evidently she was quite devoted to Aylmer, and, poor girl, she probably regarded Edith as a rival. But Edith would not be one, of that she was determined. She wondered whether their meeting had had the same effect on Aylmer. She thought he had shown more emotion than she had. 'He will be better now,' Dulcie Clay had said to her at the door. 'Please come again, Mrs Ottley.' Edith thought that generous. It seemed to her that Dulcie was as frank and open as a child. Edith, at any rate, could read her like a book. It made her feel sorry for the girl. As Edith analysed her own feelings she wondered why she had felt no jealousy of her--only gratitude for her goodness to Aylmer. All her sensations were confused. Only one resolution was firm in her mind. Whether he wished it or not, they should never be on the terms they were before. It could only lead to the same ending--to unhappiness. No; after all these years of separation, Edith would be his friend, and only his friend. Of that she was resolved. CHAPTER XI 'Lady Conroy,' said Bruce thoughtfully, at breakfast next day, 'is a very strict Roman Catholic.' Bruce was addicted to volunteering information, and making unanswerable remarks. Madame Frabelle said to Edith in a low, earnest tone: 'Pass me the butter, dear,' and looked attentively at Bruce. 'I sometimes think I shouldn't mind being one myself,' Bruce continued; 'I should rather like to eat fish on Fridays.' 'But you like eating fish on Thursdays,' said Edith. 'And Mr Ottley never seems to care very much for meat.' 'Unless it's particularly well cooked--in a particular way,' said Edith. 'Fasts,' said Madame Frabelle rather pompously, 'are meant for people who like feasts.' 'How true!' He gave her an admiring glance. 'I should not mind confessing, either,' continued Bruce, 'I think I should rather like it.' (He thought he was having a religious discussion.) 'But you always do confess,' said Edith, 'not to priests, perhaps, but to friends; to acquaintances, at clubs, to girls you take in to dinner. You don't call it confessing, you call it telling them a curious thing that you happen to remember.' 'He calls it conversing,' said Madame Frabelle. She then gave a slight flippant giggle, afterwards correcting it by a thoughtful sigh. 'The Rev. Byrne Fraser, of course, is very High Church,' Bruce said. 'I understood he was Anglican. By the way, was Aylmer Ross a Roman Catholic?' 'I think he is.'