He understood her, pitied her, and, seeing that she found consolation in a distant hope, he let her enjoy it while she might. Gravely, yet gratefully, he spoke, and pressed the hand extended to him with an impulsive gesture. “Generous as ever, Edith, and impetuously frank. Thank you for your sincerity, your kindness, and the affection you once gave me. I say 'once,' for now duty, truth, and honor bar us from each other. My life must be solitary, yet I shall find work to do, and learn to be content. You owe all devotion to the good old man who loves you, and will not fail him, I am sure. Leave the future and the past, but let us make the present what it may be--a time to forgive and forget, to take heart and begin anew. Christmas is a fitting time for such resolves, and the birth of friendship such as ours may be.” Something in his tone and manner struck her, and, eyeing him with soft wonder, she exclaimed, “How changed you are!” “Need you tell me that?” And he glanced at his helpless limbs with a bitter yet pathetic look of patience. “No, no--not so! I mean in mind, not body. Once you were gay and careless, eager and fiery, like Jasper; now you are grave and quiet, or cheerful, and so very kind. Yet, in spite of illness and loss, you seem twice the man you were, and something wins respect, as well as admiration--and love.” Her dark eyes filled as the last word left her lips, and the beauty of a touched heart shone in her face. Maurice looked up quickly, asking with sudden earnestness, “Do you see it? Then it is true. Yes, I _am_ changed, thank God! And she has done it.” “Who?” demanded his companion jealously. “Octavia. Unconsciously, yet surely, she has done much for me, and this year of seeming loss and misery has been the happiest, most profitable of my life. I have often heard that afflictions were the best teachers, and I believe it now.” Mrs. Snowdon shook her head sadly. “Not always; they are tormentors to some. But don't preach, Maurice. I am still a sinner, though you incline to sainthood, and I have one question more to ask. What was it that took you and Jasper so suddenly away from Paris?” “That I can never tell you.” “I shall discover it for myself, then.” “It is impossible.” “Nothing is impossible to a determined woman.” “You can neither wring, surprise, nor bribe this secret from the two persons who hold it. I beg of you to let it rest,” said Treherne earnestly. “I have a clue, and I shall follow it; for I am convinced that something is wrong, and you are--” “Dear Mrs. Snowdon, are you so charmed with the birds that you forget your fellow-beings, or so charmed with one fellow-being that you forget the birds?” As the sudden question startled both, Rose Talbot came along the terrace, with hands full of holly and a face full of merry mischief, adding as she vanished, “I shall tell Tavie that feeding the peacocks is such congenial amusement for lovers, she and Mr. Annon had better try it.”