Isabel said nothing, but came over to her and knelt down by her chair and took her other hand. They stayed together in silence for a long time, and the burning fire flung great shadows on the walls, and the snow had begun to fall again and rustled very softly and gently against the window. At last Mrs. Comber looked up and wiped her eyes, and tried to smile. “Ah! my dear! you are so good to me. I don't know what I should have done this terrible term if you hadn't been, and now my eyes are a perfect sight, and Freddie will be coming in; but I could n't help it. Things only seem to get worse and worse and worse, and I've stood it as long as I can, and I can't stand it any longer. I think I shall go away and be a nun or a hospital nurse or something where you 're let alone.” “Dear Mrs. Comber;” said Isabel, still holding her hand, “do tell me about these last few weeks, if it would help you. Of course, I 've seen that something 's happened between you and Mr. Comber. I can see that he is most dreadfully sorry about something, and I know that he wants to make it up. But this silence is worse than anything, and if you 'd only have it out, both of you, I'm sure it would get all right.” “No, dear.” Mrs. Comber shook her head and wiped her eyes. “It's not that so much. Freddie and I will get all right again, I expect, and even be better together than we were be-for; but all this business has shown me, my dear, that I'm a failure. I 've known it really all the time, and I used to pretend that if one was nice enough to people one could n't be altogether a failure, because they wanted one to like them—and that's the truth. Nobody wants me to like them, and I'm the loneliest woman in the world. I'm not grumbling about it, because I suppose I'm careless and silly and untidy, but I don't think anyone's wanted friends quite so badly as I have, and some people have such a lot. I used to think it was all just accidents, but now I know it's really me; and now you 're going to be married there's an end of you, the only person I had.” “Archie and I,” said Isabel softly, “will care for you to the end of your days, and you will come and stay with us, won't you? And you know that Freddie loves you. Why, I 've seen him looking at you during these last weeks as though he could die for you, and then he's been afraid to say anything. It's only this horrid place that has got in the way so dreadfully.” Mrs. Comber caught her hand eagerly. “Do you really think so, my dear? Oh! if I could only think that, because I have fancied he's been different lately, and he's such a dear when he likes to be and is n't worried about his form; but things are always worse at examination time, and I always pray that the two weeks may be got through as quickly as possible; and something dreadful did happen the other day, and I know he was ashamed of himself, the poor dear.... Perhaps things will be all right.”