"And then when he talked to me my secret seemed to choke me then. Oh, how my cheeks burnt in the darkness! how I longed to say to him, 'Do not be unhappy; there is no cause for despair. I have more than I know how to spend; let me be your creditor and advance you the sum you need. What are a few hundreds to me who have five thousand a-year? Let me prove my friendship for you and yours by rendering you this trifling service.' That is what I should have liked to have done, but I knew him too well. Would he have taken it from me? Alas, no! He would have turned round with that high manner of his and upbraided me for my foolish mystery. In spite of his wretchedness he would have taken me to task, and put things in such a light that he would have made me ashamed of myself, and then he would quietly refuse my offer. Would he accept this thing from the girl who a few months back was a stranger to him? No; a thousand times, no; but his embarrassment and discomfort would make him suspicious. He would be vexed with me for my silence, mortified by my importunity, and in his trouble I should be less to him than I am now." Queenie's secret predilection for Garth Clayton was making her timid. It had come to this, that nothing on earth could have induced her to offer him this money; she would have been as shame-faced and tongue-tied in his presence as a child just discovered in a fault. The silent understanding that was between them was too vague and unsatisfactory a basis for her to presume on; the word that was to give her the right and privilege of spoken sympathy had not yet been uttered, might never be. Mahomet's bridge is not more slender than this vague connection between two hearts that beat in sympathy and yet are asunder. Over the sacred abyss of silence hangs the invisible chain; it is strong enough to bear myriads of heavenly visitants, but only the eye of the faithful may discern it. To how many remain only the void and the mystery!