“Don’t be afraid of me, Marian,” was all she said; “I may forget myself with an old friend like

Mr.

Gilmore, or with a dear sister like you, but I will not forget myself with Sir Percival Glyde.”

I looked at her, and listened to her in silent surprise. Through all the years of our close intimacy this passive force in her character had been hidden from me⁠—hidden even from herself, till love found it, and suffering called it forth.