By Berwen Banks

"Yes," said Valmai, rather absently. She was struggling hard with the

tumult of feelings which she had hitherto restrained, endeavouring to

smile and laugh as the occasion required; but now the tide of emotions,

which had been pent up all day, threatened to burst its bonds.

"What is it, dear?" said Gwladys. "What makes your voice tremble so?

There is something you are hiding from me?" and, flinging herself down

on the hearth-rug at Valmai's feet, she clasped her arms around her

knees, and leant her head on her lap, while Valmai, giving way to the

torrent of tears which had overpowered her, bent her own head over her

sister's until their long unbound hair was mingled together.

"Oh, Gwladys! Gwladys!" she said, between her sobs, "yes, I have

hidden something from you. Something, oh, everything--the very point

and meaning of my life. And I must still hide it from you. Gwladys,

can you trust me? Can you believe your sister is pure and good when

she tells you that the last eighteen months of her life must be hidden

from you? Not because they contain anything shameful, but because

circumstances compel her to silence."

The effect of these words upon Gwladys was, at first, to make her rigid

and cold as stone. She drew herself away from her sister, gently but

firmly, and, standing before her with blanched face and parched lips,

said: "I thought it was too good to be true; that I, who have so longed for a

sister's love, should have my desire so fully satisfied seemed too good

for earth, and now I see it was. There is a secret between us, a

shadow, Valmai; tell me something more, for pity's sake!"

"I will tell you all I can, Gwladys, the rest I must keep to myself,

even though you should spurn me and cast me from you to-morrow, for I

have promised one who is dearer to me than life itself, and nothing

shall make me break that promise. Gwladys, I have loved, but--but I

have lost."

"I know very little of the world," said Gwladys, speaking in cold

tones, "and still less of men; but the little I know of them has made

me despise them. Three times I have been sought in marriage, and three

times I have found something dishonourable in the men who said they

loved me. Love! What do men know of love? Fortunately my heart was

untouched; but you, Valmai, have been weaker. I see it all--oh! to my

sorrow I see it all! You have believed and trusted, and you have been

betrayed? Am I right?"

"Yes, and no; I have loved and I have trusted, but I have not been

betrayed. He will come back to me, Gwladys--I know he will, some time

or other--and will explain the meaning of this long silence. Meanwhile

I must go on bearing and waiting."