“Would you mind if I saw Mr. Benson, and found if he knew of anything?” asked Virginia. Stephen frowned but the frown cleared itself away almost immediately. “No,” he answered. “Not if you are careful to let him understand that I don't ask you to, but I don't think he can or will do anything for me; still, if you want to see him, if it will be any satisfaction to you, I'm quite willing.” Virginia saw Benson the next day, for while she had seemed to accept Stephen's decision, she was determined to keep him near her if she could. . “He is arranging to go West to General Gibbs. I think I told you once of their meeting,” she said to the lawyer. Benson remembered and smiled. He was rather amused that Lan-dray should have pinned his faith to Gibbs. “Can nothing be done for him here, Mr. Benson—I mean will you do nothing? Can't you sec him and discuss matters with him?” she asked. Benson moved impatiently. “I don't see what I can do for him now, I wish I did, for your sake, Virginia.” But there was a notable lack of warmth in what he said that did not escape Virginia. “Tell me,” she said. “How do you feel about General Gibbs?” Benson smiled. “I've no doubt if Stephen joins him he will help him in every way he can. There are much worse men than Gibbs.” It occurred to him that he should feel safer with Stephen removed to a distance; if he stayed in Benson there was always the danger that he might blunder into a knowledge of the advantage he had taken of Virginia. “And you can do nothing?” “For Stephen? I fear not, Virginia.” “Are you not interested in Marian?” she asked. Benson shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps I should regret it; but such ties mean very little to me; and they are meaning less and less all the time.” “You have changed,” she said almost resentfully. “Once I could come to you feeling that you would do all in your power—” “You still may,” he interrupted quickly. “No, it is not as it was. I have not the same confidence.” He bit his lip. “Perhaps the change has been in you, Virginia,” he said. “My feeling toward you remains the same—” “I do not mean that.” “What is the change you think you see?” he asked curiously. “You are less kind, for one thing.” “Nonsense, Virginia! You don't mean that. Whatever I can do, whatever I have is yours! You know this—and you have asked so little where you might have asked so much; I would have lifted every burden!” “You could not; they were a part of my life,” she said quietly. But after she had gone, he fell to wondering if he had changed.