Eileen kissed her, but still remained silent. What was there to say? She had loved this man, she had given him of her best, encouraged and attracted by his attentions, and now at last she knew indeed that what he had won he did not want, and all he had said meant nothing. She remembered the incident in the boat—she remembered the half-hour in the conservatory at the dance—ah! she would not easily forget that; but how it hurt her, oh! how it _hurt_ that this man she loved had proved himself fickle and false. She hid her face in her hands—her eyeballs burnt and scorched, her head throbbed wildly, but she could not cry. She felt as if all her tears were dried up for good. “Don’t say anything to mother, Paddy,” she managed to plead at last. “Keep it just between you and me. By and by I shall feel better about it, and then I will tell her myself.” Paddy was crying quietly now; she was devoted to her only sister and cared as much as if the pain had been hers. For the time all thought of her own feelings went out of her mind, and with true unselfishness she pleaded for Jack. But Eileen only shook her head. “I couldn’t love Jack in that way,” she said with quiet resolve. In her heart she felt she could never love any one in that way again, but she did not say so to Paddy. She waited until her sister’s regular breathing told her she was asleep, and then had it out by herself in the kindly darkness of the night. And Paddy went to sleep vowing vengeance black and overwhelming upon the cause of her sister’s misery. “He shall suffer for it yet,” she told herself. “I, for one, will never forgive him; and if I can make him pay, I will.” CHAPTER XXX An Encounter. In July Paddy had to go up for her examination, and for days she was in a fever of nervous anxiety about it. “What’s it matter!” Basil said. “Examinations never worry me.” “They wouldn’t me if I didn’t care whether I passed or not.” “Well, why do you? It’s silly, I think.” “Umph!” expressively. “If I were a man I’d sooner sweep a crossing than live on my mother.” Basil flushed and bit his lip. Things had been going so easily and pleasantly with him for years, that it was extremely trying to have these pointed remarks hurled at his head. “The mater likes it,” he grunted. “Well, you see, she has your delicate health so much at heart,” sarcastically. “I wonder she let you come out without an overcoat this morning. I do hope you won’t take cold.” “Chuck it!” and he frowned gloomily. Presently he glanced up. “Look here, Paddy!” he said. “If you get through your exam, I’m hanged if I don’t buck up, and get through mine, too.” “You’d better begin working to-night,” she answered, “for I mean to pass,” and she shut her lips with a determination that spoke volumes.