“Nothing--nothing! I tell you that nothing has happened to me,” cried Ella, with a vehemence that almost amounted to fierceness in her voice. “Would I be here with you now if anything had happened to me? tell me that. I came to you--ah! women have no guardian angels, but they have sisters who are equally good and pure, and you are my sister--my sister--better than all the angels that ever sang a dirge over a lost soul that they put forth no hand to save. You will not let me go, darling Phyllis, you will not let me go even if I tell you that I want to go. Don’t believe me, Phyllis; I don’t want to go--I don’t want to be lost, and if I leave you I am lost. You will keep me, dear, will you not?” “Until the end of the world,” said Phyllis. “Come, dearest Ella, tell me what is the matter--why you have come to me in that lovely costume. You look as if you were dressed for a bridal.” “A bridal--a bridal? What do you mean by that?” said Ella, with curious eagerness--a suggestion of suspicion was in her tone. She had loosed her hold upon the girl’s arms. Phyllis laughed. She put a hand round Ella’s waist and led her to a sofa, saying: “Let us sit down and talk it all over. That is the lace you told me you picked up at Munich. What a design--lilies!” “The Virgin’s flower--the Virgin’s flower! I never thought of that,” laughed Ella. “It is for you--not me, this lace. I shall tear it off and--” “You shall do nothing of the kind,” cried Phyllis. “I have heaps of lace--more than I shall ever wear. What a lovely idea that is of yours,--I’m sure it is yours,--sewing the diamonds around the cup of the lilies, like dewdrops. I always did like diamonds on lace. Some people would have us believe that diamonds should only be worn with blue velvet. How commonplace! Where have you been to-night?” “Where have I been? I have been at home. Where should a good woman be in the absence of her husband, but at home--his home and her home?”