Her tone was very soft, and, as he seated himself, she touched his
arm gently. The room was scented with roses. A blind, half-drawn on
the open window, broke the warm western rays; upon a tree near by, a
garden warbler was piping evensong.

"What is it?" she asked, with a timid kindness. "What has happened?
Won't you tell me?"

"You know--I am sure you know----"

His voice was choked into silence.

"But you will get over it--oh, yes, you will! Your work----"

"I can't work!" he broke out vehemently--"I shall never work
again. She has changed all my life. I must find something else to do
--I don't care what. I can't go in for that examination."

Then abruptly he turned to her with a look of eagerness.

"Would it be any use? Suppose I got a place in one of the offices?
Would there be any hope for me?"

Mrs. Hannaford's eyes dropped.

"Don't think of her," she answered. "She has such brilliant
prospects--it is so unlikely. You think me unsympathetic--oh,
I'm not!" Again she let her fingers rest on his arm. "I feel so much
with you that I daren't offer imaginary hopes. She belongs to such a
different world, try, try to forget her."