thinking in a bad atmosphere. Mrs. Eppington, grew angry at the
girl's callousness.

"Have you no sense of shame?" she cried.

"I had once," was Edith's reply, "before I came to live here. Do
you know what this house is for me, with its gilded mirrors, its
couches, its soft carpets? Do you know what I am, and have been
for two years?"

The elder woman rose, with a frightened pleading look upon her
face, and the other stopped and turned away towards the window.

"We all thought it for the best," continued Mrs. Eppington meekly.

The girl spoke wearily without looking round.

"Oh! every silly thing that was ever done, was done for the best.
_I_ thought it would be for the best, myself. Everything would be
so simple if only we were not alive. Don't let's talk any more.
All you can say is quite right."

The silence continued for a while, the Dresden-china clock on the
mantelpiece ticking louder and louder as if to say, "I, Time, am
here. Do not make your plans forgetting me, little mortals; I
change your thoughts and wills. You are but my puppets."

"Then what do you intend to do?" demanded Mrs. Eppington at length.

"Intend! Oh, the right thing of course. We all intend that. I