"You always cheer me up," she said, with perfect truthfulness. He _had_ cheered her. It would be a sad world for most of us if it were by our conversational talents that we could comfort those we loved. But Roger believed it was so in his case, and complacently felt that he had broached a number of interesting Parisian subjects, and had refreshed Janey, whom Lady Louisa led a dog's life and no mistake. He was fond of her, and sorry for her beyond measure, and his voice and eyes were very kindly as he bade her good-night. She went to the door with him, and they stood a moment together in the moonlight under the clustering stars of the clematis. He took his hat and stick and repeated his words: "Keep a brave heart." She said in a voice which she tried, and failed, to make as tranquil as usual-- "I had been so afraid you weren't coming, that you had missed your train." "Oh no! I didn't miss it. But just as I got to the gate at eight o'clock I met Miss Georges coming out of the churchyard, and it was pretty dark--moon wasn't up--and I thought I ought to see her home first. That was why I was late." Janey bade him good-night again, and slipped indoors. The moonlight and the clematis which a moment before had been so full of mysterious meaning were suddenly emptied of all significance. CHAPTER XIV "O Life, how naked and how hard when known! Life said, As thou hast carved me, such am I." GEORGE MEREDITH. Janey lit her bedroom candle with a hand that trembled a little, and in her turn went slowly upstairs. She could hear the clatter of knives and forks in the dining-room, and Harry's vacant laugh, and Nurse's sharp voice. They had come back, then. She went with an effort into her mother's room, and sat down in her accustomed chair by the bed. "It is ten o'clock. Shall I read, mother?" "Certainly." It was the first time they had spoken since she had been ordered out of the room earlier in the day. Janey opened the Prayer Book on the table by the bedside, and read a psalm and a chapter from the Gospel:-- "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light." Janey closed the book, and said timidly, "May I stay until Nurse comes up?" "Pray do exactly what you like." She did not move. "I am heavy laden," said her mother. "I don't suppose you have ever given it one moment's thought what it must be like to lie like a log as I do." Her daughter dared not answer. "How many months have I lain in this room?" "Eight months." "Ever since I went to Paris last October. I was too ill to go, but I went." Silence. "I am heavy laden, but it seems I must not look to you for help, Janey."