‘I’m sure,’ said Miss Hacket, ‘our only wish is to forget and forgive as Christians. Lady Merrifield has behaved most handsomely, and it is our most earnest wish that this unfortunate transaction should be forgotten.’ ‘And I’m sure I’m willing to overlook it all,’ said Constance. ‘One must have scrapes, you know; but friendship will triumph over all.’ Gillian did not exactly wish to unravel this fine sentiment, and was glad that the little G.F.S. maid came in with the tea. Lady Merrifield was a good deal diverted with Gillian’s report, and invited the two sisters to luncheon on the plea of their slight acquaintance with Anne--otherwise Mrs. Daventry--with a hint in the note not to compliment Mrs. Merrifield on Elizabeth’s production. Then Dolores had to be prepared to receive any advance from Constance. She looked disgusted at first, and then, when she heard that Gillian had spoken her mind, said, ‘I can’t think why you should care.’ ‘Of course I care, to have Constance behaving so ill to one of us.’ ‘Do you think me one of you, Gillian?’ ‘Who, what else are you?’ And Dolores held up her face for a kiss, a heartier one than had ever passed between the cousins. There was no kiss between the quondam friends, but they shook hands with perfect civility, and no stranger would have guessed their former or their present terms from their manner. In fact, Constance was perfectly absorbed in the contemplation of the successful authoress, the object of her envy and veneration, and only wanted to forget all the unpleasantness connected with the dark head on the opposite side of the table. ‘Oh Miss Merrifield,’ she asked, in an interval afterwards, when hats were being put on, ‘bow do you make them take your things?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Bessie, smiling. ‘I take all the pains I can, and try to make them useful.’ ‘Useful, but that’s so dull--and the critics always laugh at things with a purpose.’ ‘But I don’t think that is a reason for not trying to do good, even in this very small and uncertain way. Indeed,’ she added, earnestly. ‘I have no right to speak, for I have made great mistakes; but I wanted to tell you that the one thing I did get published, which was not written conscientiously--as I may say--but only to work out a silly, sentimental fancy, has brought me pain and punishment by the harm I know I did.’ This was a very new idea to Constance, and she actually carried it away with her. The visit had restored the usual terms of intercourse with the Hackets, though there was no resumption of intimacy such as there had been, between Constance and Dolores. It had, however, done much to make the latter feel that the others considered themselves one with them, and there was something that drew them together in the universal missing of Mysie, and eagerness for her letters.