acquaintances, and would be very little helped to an understanding of each other by the recollections of childhood.  And then Ida felt there was so much to be glad of in the new prospects.  She longed for a world more substantial than that of her own imaginations, and here, as she thought, it would be opened to her.  Above all, by introducing her to his friends, Waymark had strengthened the relations between her and himself.  He was giving her, too, a chance of showing herself to him in a new light.  For the first time he would see her under the ordinary conditions of a woman’s life in a home circle Ida had passed from one extreme to the other.  At present there was nothing she desired so much as the simple, conventional, every-day existence of the woman who has never swerved from the beaten track.  She never saw a family group anywhere without envying the happiness which to her seemed involved in the mere fact of a home and relations.  Her isolation weighed heavily upon her.  If there were but some one who could claim her services, as of right, and in return render her the simple hum-drum affection which goes for so much in easing the burden of life.  She was weary of her solitary heroism, though she never regarded it as heroism, but merely as the path in which she was naturally led by her feelings.  Waymark could not but still think of her very much in the old light, and she wished to prove to him how completely she was changed.  The simple act of making tea for him when he came to see her had been a pleasure; it was domestic and womanly, and she had often glanced at his face to see whether he noticed it at all.  Then the fact of Harriet’s being an invalid would give her many opportunities for showing that she could be gentle and patient and serviceable.  Casti would observe these things, and doubtless would speak of them to Waymark.  Thinking in this way, Ida became all eagerness for the new friendship.  There was of course the possibility that Harriet would refuse to accept her offered kindness, but it seemed very unlikely, and the disappointment would be so great that she could not bear to dwell on the thought.  Waymark had promised to come as soon as he had any news.  The time would go very slowly till she saw him.

Waymark had met Harriet very seldom of late.  Julian spent regularly one evening a week with him, but it was only occasionally that Waymark paid a visit in turn.  He knew that he was anything but welcome to Mrs. Casti, who of course had neither interest nor understanding for the conversation between himself and Julian.  Formerly he had now and then tried his best to find some common subject for talk with her, but the effort had been vain; she was hopelessly stupid, and more often than not in a surly mood, which made her mere presence difficult to be endured.  Of late, whenever he came, she made her illness an excuse for remaining in her bed-room.  And hence arose another trouble.  The two rooms were only divided by folding doors, and when Harriet got impatient