promises of May just threatening to break through their silvery
April sheaths. Raindrops were still glistening on the fronds of the
tender young ferns and on the great clumps of pale, delicately
scented bog violets that we found in a marshy spot and brought in to
Salemina, who was not in her usual spirits; who indeed seemed
distinctly anxious.

She was enchanted with the changeful charm of the landscape, and
found Mrs. Delany's Memoirs a book after her own heart, but ever and
anon her eyes rested on Benella's pale face. Nothing could have
been more doggedly conscientious and assiduous than our attentions
to the Derelict. She had beef juice at Kildare, malted milk at
Ballybrophy, tea at Dundrum; nevertheless, as we approached Limerick
Junction we were obliged to hold a consultation. Salemina wished to
alight from the train at the next station, take a three hours' rest,
then jog on to any comfortable place for the night, and to Cork in
the morning.

"I shall feel much more comfortable," she said, "if you go on and
amuse yourselves as you like, leaving Benella to me for a day, or
even for two or three days. I can't help feeling that the chief
fault, or at least the chief responsibility, is mine. If I hadn't
been born in Salem, or hadn't had the word painted on my trunk in
such red letters she wouldn't have fainted on it, and I needn't have
saved her life. It is too late to turn back now; it is saved, or
partly saved, and I must persevere in saving it, at least until I
find that it's not worth saving."

"Poor darling!" said Francesca sympathisingly. "I'll look in Murray
and find a nice interesting place. You can put Benella to bed in