and money; but the doctor without patients, the briefless barrister, can
hardly love law or medicine.'

He beguiled Ida into talking of her own life, with all its bitterness.
There was something in his voice and manner which tempted her to confide
in him. He seemed thoroughly sympathetic.

'I keep forgetting what strangers we are,' she said, apologizing for her
unreserve.

'We are not strangers. I have heard of you from Bessie so much that I
seem to have known you for years. I hope you will never think of me as a
stranger.'

'I don't think I ever can, after this conversation. I am afraid you will
think me horribly egotistical.'

She had been talking of her father and stepmother, the little brother she
loved so fondly, dwelling with delight upon his perfections.

'I think you all that is good and noble. How I wish this were not your
last evening at the Knoll!'

'Do you think I do not wish it? Hark, there's Bessie calling us.'

They went back to the house, and to the drawing-room, which wore quite a
festive appearance, in honour of Bessie's birthday; ever so many extra
candles dotted about, and a table laid with fruit and sandwiches, cake
and claret-cup, the children evidently considering a superfluity of meals
indispensable to a happy birthday. Blanche and her juniors were sitting