"But thinking herself so is being so, is it not?" said Gerald, smiling slightly. "Yes," said Roma, doubtfully, "I suppose it is. But, to speak quite plainly," she went on, growing tired of beating about the bush and not altogether relishing Mr Thurston's pertinacity, "what I really mean is that _I_ should not consider the fate of being Beauchamp's wife the happiest in the world. But Eugenia thinks so, and long may she continue to do so." She spoke with a little impatience. Gerald felt puzzled. "But you like him, don't you?" he said. "He has been almost a sort of brother to you, has he not?" "Yes, I like him and I think well of him. I wouldn't for worlds have you imagine I do not. But I think Eugenia in many ways too good for him, and if she ever wakes to this the chances are she will not do him justice _then_, any more than she does now." She spoke sadly and seriously. Mr Thurston understood her now, and saw that no shadow of personal feeling had influenced her former speech. His face, too, was grave as he answered her. "But is she certain to awake?" he said. "Of that you can judge better than I," answered Roma. "And, after all, sooner or later everyone must awake," he went on, as if speaking to himself. "Except those who have never been asleep," said Roma. "The longer I live the more thankful I am that I was born an eminently practical person, in no way inclined to exaggerated belief in any one. There is not a grain of tragedy in my composition." "I remember your saying something of that kind to me the first time we met," said Gerald. "I was rather sceptical then, and I don't know that I am in a more believing frame of mind now. I don't think you quite know the meaning of your words." "Oh yes, I do," said Roma, laughing. "However, the subject is not worth discussing." Gerald saw she did not care for more talk about herself, and when he spoke again it was in a different tone. "Are they--Captain Chancellor and his wife--likely to be much in your neighbourhood?" he asked. "I don't know. I hardly think so. Their plans are rather uncertain, I fancy," replied Roma, remembering the frail, fast-waning life which alone stood between Beauchamp and a very different future to that anticipated by Eugenia and her friends. "Of course as long as he stays in the army they must go wherever he is sent. Still, no doubt I shall see them sometimes, and," she hesitated a little, "if my friendship is worth having, you may be sure Eugenia shall have it, such as it is. I think I have fallen a good deal in love with her myself," she smiled, and then blushed a little, as she remembered to whom she was speaking. "Thank you," said Gerald, as fervently as if he had been seeking the goodwill of a new relation for a young, inexperienced sister.