a Nihilist going about loose like this, and playing tennis at the
rectory and all the good houses! And not only that, but she says he
is altogether a dangerous, unprincipled man with a dreadful temper.
You can't think how unhappy she is about poor Gertrude, and so am I,
for we were at school together and have always been friends."

"I am very sorry to hear about it," said Mr. Blackthorne, "but I
don't see that anything can be done. You see, one does not like to
interfere in these sort of things. It seems officious rather, and
meddlesome."

"Yes, that is the worst of it," she replied, with a sigh. "I
suppose we can do nothing. Still, it has been a great relief just
to tell you about it and get it off my mind. I suppose we can only
hope that something may put a stop to it all--we must just leave it
to chance."

This sentiment amused me not a little. Leave it to chance indeed!
Had she not caused me to grow stronger and larger by every word she
uttered? And had not the conversation revealed to me Mr.
Blackthorn's one vulnerable part? I knew well enough that I should
be able to dominate his thoughts as I had done hers. Finding me
burdensome, she had passed me on to somebody else with additions
that vastly increased my working powers, and then she talked of
leaving it to chance! The way in which mortals practise pious
frauds on themselves is really delightful! And yet Lena Houghton
was a good sort of girl, and had from her childhood repeated the
catechism words which proclaim that, "My duty to my neighbour is to
love him as myself . . . To keep my tongue from evil-speaking,
lying, and slandering." What is more, she took great pains to teach