I did not care for her once, but we are great friends now, and she is a comfort to me in your absence.  I am afraid, though, that she is not long for this world.  Everything tires her, and she has grown so thin that a breath might blow her away.  I think it would kill Frank to lose her.  His life is bound up in hers; and he once said to me, either that he had sold, or would sell, his soul for her.  What do you suppose he meant?’

Jerrie did not reply.  The likeness in the mirror had disappeared as Arthur grew more in earnest, and she listened more intently to what he was saying of Maude, every word as he went on a blow from which she shrank as from some physical pain.

‘Yes,’ Arthur continued, ’Maude is weak, mentally and physically, though I believe she is trying hard to improve her wind, or rather, that young man, Harold, is trying to improve it for her.  He is at the house nearly everyday, or she is at the cottage.  But, hold on!  I wasn’t to tell, and I haven’t told—­only he reads to her, sometimes outside when the weather will admit, but oftener in her studio, where she talks to him of art, and where I once saw him giving her a sitting while she tried to sketch his face.  A caricature, I called it, ridiculing it so much that she put it away unfinished, and is now at work on some water-lilies he brought her, and which are really very good.  Mrs. Tracy is not pleased with Harold’s visits, and I once overheard her saying to Maude, “Why do you encourage the attentions of that young man? why do you run after him so, down there every day?” Hold on, again!  What a tattler I am!  Why don’t I stick to Dolly, who said, “You certainly do not care for him.  He hasn’t a cent to his name, nor any family and has even worked in Peterkin’s furnace.”  What Maude replied I do not know, I only heard Dolly bang the door hard as she left the room, so I suppose the answer was not a pleasing one.  Dolly is a grand lady and would not like her daughter to marry an ordinary man like Harold.’

‘No,’ Jerrie said, slowly, as if speaking were an effort.  ’N-no; and you think Harold likes Maude very much?’

’Likes her?  Yes.  Why shouldn’t he like a girl as pretty as she is, especially when she meets him more than half way?’ Arthur replied, and Jerrie continued in the same measured tone: 

‘Ye-es, and you think he would marry her if her mother would permit it?’

‘He is not at all likely to do that,’ Arthur answered, quickly, ’A man seldom marries a woman who throws herself at his head and lets him see how much she cares for him, and Maude is doing just that.  She cannot conceal anything.  I tell you, Cherry, if the time ever comes when you love somebody better than all the world beside, don’t let him know until he speaks for himself.  Don’t be lightly won.  Better be shy and cold, than demonstrative and gushing, like Maude.  Gretchen was shy as a fawn, and after I told her I loved her she would not believe it possible.  But, child, you look fagged and tired.  It is time you were in bed.  I have talked you nearly to death.’