The two girls lived on, happy and contented. To them came no word of what was going on at Wellfield. They knew nothing of the long parley which their best-beloved was even then standing to hold with baseness and dishonesty, while honour and honesty stood by. Had they known, they too could have told him what perhaps his own conscience had more than once whispered to him: that honour and honesty will not continue such a parley for ever. They will not always remain there, holding out their neglected hands for us to clasp. There comes a time when they will wait no longer, but will withdraw their hands, fold their mantles around them, turn away, and leave us to consort with the company ourselves have chosen. [Illustration] CHAPTER II. LEBENDE BILDER. TEN days later, Sara, sitting one morning in her atelier, heard a knock at her door, and answered abstractedly ‘_Herein!_’ Looking up to see who might be her visitor, she saw a little lady in widow’s weeds. ‘Frau Goldmark!’ she exclaimed, rising in astonishment. Frau Goldmark was the widow of that young artist of promise, of whose sudden death Wilhelmi had informed her. Sara had heard constant talk of her for the last few days, to which talk she had listened in a vague, unheeding way. Her acquaintance with her was very slight, and had never before gone so far as an exchange of visits, and she was proportionately surprised to see her now, and under the existing circumstances, in her atelier. ‘Yes, _liebe_ Miss Ford, it is I. And you may well look astonished, but do only hear me.’ ‘Come into my sitting-room, then, Frau Goldmark, and tell me what I can do for you,’ said Sara, leading the way to where Avice was seated with a book in the parlour. Frau Goldmark was a slight, pretty, little woman, with round, important, excited-looking eyes, and a general aspect which did not altogether charm Miss Ford, who formed indeed, in appearance, and manner, and everything else, a startling contrast to her visitor. Sara had heard vague rumours which gave Frau Goldmark the name of a gossip, and she had never felt any violent desire to make her acquaintance; but her recent heavy loss, her widowhood, and the inevitable hard struggle which lay before her, all combined to make Sara lay aside all considerations save those of kindness. She offered Frau Goldmark a seat, and waited to hear on what errand she had come. ‘I have come to ask a favour, _mein Fräulein_, an immense one; _ein unerhörtes_,’ she began. ‘Indeed! I wonder how I can serve you?’ asked Sara, in her most gracious manner. Frau Goldmark looked at her keenly, despite her excitement, and found time for the reflection, ‘She certainly is as beautiful as all these men say, and if I can only get her to do it—I will ask for both the scenes while I am about it.’ ‘You are aware, dear Miss Ford, of the most lamented death of my dear good husband,’ said Frau Goldmark, with brimming eyes and a trembling lip.