She held out her hand. Avice was overpowered. With all her wrath and indignation she was but a soft-hearted girl. The instant she saw Nita she comprehended that it was she who had been deceived all along. She felt she could not hate this girl, even to remain loyal to Sara Ford. She stood still and silent, with a quivering lip. Nita saw it, and took both her hands, saying: ‘I hope you don’t mind. I will go away if you do.’ ‘No–no. It is very kind–very good of you to come,’ said Avice, her voice dying away; breaking down entirely, she wept again, as she realised the miserable hopelessness of the whole affair. ‘What is the matter?’ said Nita, sitting down beside her. ‘Why do you cry? Is it because Jerome has asked me to marry him? I hope not?’ ‘It–it is because I have left a very dear friend,’ Avice stammered, and then, with a huge effort, she recovered herself. It would not do–she must be composed. ‘Ah, that is sad. But do try not to be too sorry. I hope you will be my friend. I have so longed to see you, and I have asked so many questions about you that I am sure Jerome must have been weary of answering them.’ (‘“Jerome” at every other word,’ thought Avice. ‘I am sure she must be desperately fond of him. It is dreadful.’) She recovered herself, lifted her head, dried her eyes, and smiled valiantly. ‘I’m very stupid,’ she said. She could not address words of welcome to Nita, and the latter noticed it, but was resolved to ignore it, and to make her new sister love her sooner or later. ‘What a beautiful dog you have!’ said Avice, stooping to caress him. ‘That is Speedwell–my greatest friend, next to John Leyburn. By the way, John said he had disturbed you last night, and he feared you would think him rude.’ ‘I thought him funny,’ said Avice, a small smile beginning to creep to the corners of her mouth. Nita sat and looked at her, and suddenly exclaimed: ‘How beautiful you are! I always thought no one could be handsomer than Jerome, but you are like him–“only more so,” as John says. I hope you won’t think me rude if I look at you rather often.’ This kind of innocent flattery was very pleasant. Avice began to cheer up, to forget Ellen on her way to Sara with that dreadful letter. An hour’s conversation made the girls like one another thoroughly. Nita was not satisfied until she had carried Avice off to the Abbey, and left a message for Jerome, desiring him, if he wanted either of them, to come and seek them there. Here Avice was solemnly introduced to Mr. Bolton and to Aunt Margaret; and in observing the latter found such keen entertainment as to make her forget her troubles. It was only when suddenly Jerome stood before them, and she saw him kiss Nita, and the quick, enraptured smile of the latter, that the pain suddenly returned for a moment; and the thought of Sara, alone, gave her a bitter pang.