acquaintances, and would be very little helped to an
understanding of each other by the recollections of
childhood. And then Ida felt there was so much
to be glad of in the new prospects. She longed
for a world more substantial than that of her own
imaginations, and here, as she thought, it would be
opened to her. Above all, by introducing her
to his friends, Waymark had strengthened the relations
between her and himself. He was giving her, too,
a chance of showing herself to him in a new light.
For the first time he would see her under the ordinary
conditions of a woman’s life in a home circle
Ida had passed from one extreme to the other.
At present there was nothing she desired so much as
the simple, conventional, every-day existence of the
woman who has never swerved from the beaten track.
She never saw a family group anywhere without envying
the happiness which to her seemed involved in the mere
fact of a home and relations. Her isolation weighed
heavily upon her. If there were but some one
who could claim her services, as of right, and in
return render her the simple hum-drum affection which
goes for so much in easing the burden of life.
She was weary of her solitary heroism, though she
never regarded it as heroism, but merely as the path
in which she was naturally led by her feelings.
Waymark could not but still think of her very much
in the old light, and she wished to prove to him how
completely she was changed. The simple act of
making tea for him when he came to see her had been
a pleasure; it was domestic and womanly, and she had
often glanced at his face to see whether he noticed
it at all. Then the fact of Harriet’s being
an invalid would give her many opportunities for showing
that she could be gentle and patient and serviceable.
Casti would observe these things, and doubtless would
speak of them to Waymark. Thinking in this way,
Ida became all eagerness for the new friendship.
There was of course the possibility that Harriet would
refuse to accept her offered kindness, but it seemed
very unlikely, and the disappointment would be so
great that she could not bear to dwell on the thought.
Waymark had promised to come as soon as he had any
news. The time would go very slowly till she saw
him.
Waymark had met Harriet very seldom of late.
Julian spent regularly one evening a week with him,
but it was only occasionally that Waymark paid a visit
in turn. He knew that he was anything but welcome
to Mrs. Casti, who of course had neither interest nor
understanding for the conversation between himself
and Julian. Formerly he had now and then tried
his best to find some common subject for talk with
her, but the effort had been vain; she was hopelessly
stupid, and more often than not in a surly mood, which
made her mere presence difficult to be endured.
Of late, whenever he came, she made her illness an
excuse for remaining in her bed-room. And hence
arose another trouble. The two rooms were only
divided by folding doors, and when Harriet got impatient