"It has suddenly come upon me that I have been taking your help without one thought of what it may cost you to give it. Why did I never know before that such help, even to one so innocent as you, must cost pain and effort? Never let that be! Forgive my selfishness; the sympathy you gave me seemed divine. But even Divine help costs suffering, and I should be the worst of all cowards, the most contemptible of traitors, to let you suffer with me. You have done so much--enough to win for ever the thanks of-- "Guy Waynflete." So then he knew. He knew that, when she fought for him, she too must "feel" the foe. He knew what the strain of self-giving meant. But there was no doubt of the answer. Florella sat down and wrote:-- "Dear Mr Waynflete,-- "I think, if God lets the help go through one, one need not be afraid. I am not good as you think, but I am not afraid. God understands it. I wish I could help more. I am very glad you liked the harebells, and I hope that Mr Staunton will not let you work too hard in this cold weather. "Yours truly,-- "Florella Vyner." Poor little inadequate human words! Florella finished and directed her letter, and then she sat down by the fire and cried very much. She was not afraid, but it was almost more than her tender soul could bear. To be good _enough_ To let every bit of selfishness and silliness and idle vanity be burnt away by the spiritual fire! To think largely enough of so large a thing! More outside news came through the medium of Christmas letters from the various Palmer cousins. The attraction that had kept Godfrey at Kirkton Hall was freely commented on, and it need hardly be said that it was well to the front in Constancy's mind when, on paying a New Year's call on the Stauntons with her aunt and sister, she beheld a tall flaxen head in dangerous proximity to the chandelier, and recognised it as Godfrey Waynflete's. "I have come up on business about the mill while Staunton is still able to be with my brother," he said, after the stiffest of greetings. "I am very glad to see you," said Mrs Palmer, cordially. "Do you know I want to ask a question? Are you going to let Waynflete again for the summer and autumn? No air ever suited me so well, and as for the noises, one gets used to them. I found the old horseman at last quite companionable." Suddenly Constancy broke in, in clear, deliberate tones. "If you think of going to Waynflete, Aunt Con, I think I'll make a confession. It entered into my wicked head, when we stayed at Waynflete before, to try the effect on my family of supernatural terrors. I did most of the ghosts that people heard in the house. It's very easy to take people in. And as I shall probably be in the Tyrol next summer, I dare say there won't be any mysterious noises." "Constancy, can I believe you?" exclaimed Mrs Palmer. Godfrey came and stood in front of her, towering over her chair. "I must ask you to tell me exactly what you did?" he said sternly.