And to Cuthbert's surprise, the doctor gave in and admitted that a strong interest in his work was good, and perhaps with due care, he had better try, for a time. Guy promised prudence, and gained his point. He parted from his friend in the same determined fashion, though he did not try to hide that the parting was hard. Cuthbert wondered, as he had often wondered before, how any one could be at once so dependent and so self-reliant. In the same breath he said, with wistful eyes, "You'll write to me often, won't you? Even a card; or if you just wire, it will be something;" and, "I can't help it, you know, if it does kill me; I've got to do it." And the grounds of this conviction were quite incommunicable. As for Florella, she felt as if all power of "help" had deserted her, and that nothing was left but anxiety. What had he known of her strange experience? When she had gone down into the depths with him, how had he known it? He had taken her knowledge for granted, and claimed her continual help. But _what_ did she know, and what had she done? Florella's spirit dealt with strange things, and she paid the penalty of trouble and disturbance of soul. Thoughts and questionings which her young spirit could hardly bear, came to her, and since she had so thrown herself out of herself to aid him, the delicate balance of her nature was risked as well as his. The minute and exceeding care with which she practised her flower-painting was her refuge and safeguard through these difficult months. And she was not left alone, with only herself and Guy to think of. She had a great many acquaintances, old school-fellows, and others; some of whom were struggling to find a place among the workers of the day, others who were in the swing of the London circle to which Mrs Palmer belonged. Florella had always obtained confidences. Her reposeful manner, her good sense, and her kindliness brought them. But now she heard story after story of trouble and temptation, perplexity, or discontent. "I always feel as if you could see my soul!" one girl said to her. She listened, and said such words as came to her. She felt sometimes as if she was in the very whirl and rush of life's battle, while outwardly nothing happened to her at all. She painted flowers, and went out to parties with her aunt. PART TWO, CHAPTER TWELVE. HAREBELLS IN SNOW.