"And if I answer, yes," returned the girl, quickly, "will you leave off teasing me about all those stupid men? If you knew how I hate it--how I despise them all." "All but the ideal," observed Miss Campion, archly; but she took the girl's hand in hers, and her shrewd, clever face softened. "You must forgive an impertinent old maid, my dear. Perhaps she had her story too, who knows. And so you have your ideal, my poor, dear child; and the ideal has not made you a happy woman. It never does," in a low voice. "Dear Miss Campion," returned Crystal, with a blush; "if I am unhappy, it is only through my own fault; no one else is to blame, and--and--it is not as you think. It is true I once knew a good man, who has made every other man seem puny and insignificant beside him; but that is because he was so good and there was no other reason." "No other reason, except your love for him," observed the elder woman, stroking her hand gently. "I have long suspected this, my dear." "Oh, you must not talk so," answered Crystal, in a tone of poignant distress; "you do not know; you can not understand. Oh, it is all so sad. I owe him everything. My ideal, oh, yes; whom have I ever seen who could compare with him--so strong, so gentle, so forgiving? Oh, you must never let me talk of him; it breaks my heart." "Come away, Margaret," whispered Raby, hoarsely, in her ear. "I have no right to hear this; it is betraying my darling's confidence. Take me away, for I can not trust myself another moment; and it is late--too late to speak to her to-night." "Hush! they are going in; we must wait a moment. Crystal is crying, and that kind creature is comforting her. We did not mean to listen, Raby; but it was not safe to move away from the trees." "You heard what she said, Margaret--her ideal. Heaven bless her sweet innocence; she is as much a child as ever. Do I look like any woman's ideal now, Margaret. I always think of those lines in 'Aurora Leigh,' when I imagine myself "'A mere bare blind stone in the blaze of day, A man, upon the outside of the earth, As dark as ten feet under, in the grave,-- Why that seemed hard.' And yet, she really said it; her ideal. Ah, well! A woman's pity sometimes makes her mad. What do you say, Maggie?" "That you are, and that you ever have been Crystal's ideal." And after that they walked back in silence. "You and I will go again to-morrow morning," Raby said to her as they parted for the night; and Margaret assented. Raby had a wakeful night, and slept a little heavily toward morning. Margaret had already finished her breakfast when he entered the long dining-room, and one of the black waiters guided him to his place. Raby wondered that she did not join him as usual to read his letters to him, and make plans for their visit; but a few minutes later she joined him in walking dress, and sat down beside him.