“I mean that the question you have to ask Sheila is too solemn and serious a one to be put when she is in a mist of bewilderment, sorrow, and indignation, which is sure to be the case. You would come to her then as a sort of champion and deliverer, and she would very likely accept you in that impulse of gratitude, whether or no her heart be deeply stirred. Do not win her in that impetuous way, Ronald. It will not hurt either of you to bear the yoke for awhile—to learn what patience has to teach. Her character will develop in the school of life’s discipline, as it has not done when all has been sunshine. Let her go now, Ronald. Prove your own heart first, then if you find it unchanged, seek her out later, and win her if you can. Believe me, it will be best so. I do not know what has passed between Sheila and her aunt, but whatever it is, I would not have you seek an interview now.” And indeed, had Ronald desired it, it is doubtful if he could have obtained sight of Sheila. She remained in bed most of Sunday with a violent headache. Miss Adene and Lady Dumaresq stole up to see her, to whisper a few kind words and then retire. And when Monday came she was nothing but a little white-faced, woe-begone creature, so unlike the Sheila of the past weeks that her friends would scarcely have known her. She would not say good-bye to anybody. She shrank from the thought of what they might have been told as to her sudden departure. Every nerve was tingling with pain, and shame, and misery. The boat was in early, and whilst the rest of the people were at lunch, Sheila got her uncle to take her down to the quay and see her on board, for she felt she would sink into the ground if Ronald were to come out and see her, and say good-bye before the rest of the people. “Well, I am thankful she went off so quietly,” said Mrs. Cossart, as they discussed the matter together before descending to dinner. “I was afraid there might be a scene, but there is no accounting for Sheila. She did not even want to say good-bye to the Dumaresq party, and if some of them hadn’t come up here, she would have gone off without even that. Girls are the queerest, most capricious creatures! Well, it’s all happily over; and, Effie, you will have Sheila’s place now at table, and nobody to interfere with you. Mr. Dumaresq——” But Effie tossed her head rather defiantly. She had not got much change out of Mr. Dumaresq these last few _table d’hôte_ meals. “I don’t care for Mr. Dumaresq so mighty much. I’m not going to put myself out of the way for him. I don’t think I care so particularly for fashionable young men. I don’t mind him, but I’m not going to put myself out of the way just to amuse him. I think he’s very dull sometimes. I don’t know what you all see in him to make such a fuss!”