"Yes," she said, "_Louise_. Your cousin is heart and soul devoted to her, and what wonder? She is charming and good, and often I almost think her beautiful. You have always underestimated her." "Then," said Winifred, without directly replying, "I suppose he never _really_ cared for me." "I am inclined to think he never did," said Hertha. "But surely you should be very glad if it be so? You never cared for him." "No," said Winifred, "never. But,"--and a curious expression came into her face--"I suppose it is very contemptible, but it may be a sort of horrid mortification. I don't know how I feel about it. And yet--oh yes, I do love Louise, and I know she is an angel of goodness, and I'm very fond of Len, in his way. I love them all, but--I'm beginning to see it so plainly. None of them love me. I am out of it all--why was I the eldest? Why can't I go away and make my own way as I planned?" They were near a bench. Winifred flung herself upon it and burst into uncontrollable girlish sobs. She seemed to Hertha to have grown ten years younger, and never had Miss Norreys' heart gone out to her so much as now. For a minute or two she let her cry undisturbed, then she said very gently: "My dear child, I think I understand you and the whole story. You have not sought their love in the past as you might have done, but you have it. You do not know how much they all love you. And--you are _very_ fortunate--see how duty and affection are pointing the same way in your case. You have it now in your power to win love and gratitude such as fall to the lot of few, by simply doing right." "If it is right and done for that reason, I don't deserve gratitude," said Winifred, dejectedly. "_They_ will think so, anyway. And it will be a sacrifice of your own wishes to those of others. That should and will bring gratitude." Winifred sighed deeply. "I will do it then," she said, "and once I say a thing, I don't go back from it. I will give it up. But please leave me alone about it for to-day. I will keep out of the way till I am all right again." They were not far from the house by this time. "I will run in by one of the side doors, and get to my own room," Winifred went on. "Will you forgive my leaving you here--and--and I want to thank you, but I don't quite know how I feel." "Never mind about me. It is all right as far as I am concerned. I am very thankful," said Hertha. Winifred was turning away when another thought struck her. "About Celia," she said. "I did--unselfishly, I think--I did want to help her," and the choke in her voice touched Hertha again.