After that they walked home--to the dull little house in the by street,
that is. Mr. Cecil Burleigh refused to go in; and when the door closed
on Julia's "Good-bye, Cecil, goodbye, dear," he walked swiftly away to
his hotel, with the sensations of a man who is honestly miserable, and
also who has not dined.

Julia sat by the open window until very late in the hot night, and Helen
with her, comforting her.

"No, the years have not been thrown away! If I live to grow old I shall
still count them the best years of my life," said she with a pathetic
resignation. "I may have been sometimes out of spirits, but much oftener
I have been happy; what other joy have I ever had than Cecil's love? I
was eighteen when we met at that ball--you remember, Nell! Dear Cecil! I
adored him from the first kind word he gave me, and what a thrill I felt
to-day when I saw him coming!"

"And he is to come no more?" inquired Helen softly.

"No more as of old. Of course we shall see one another as people do who
live in the same world: I am not going into a nunnery. Cecil will be a
great man some day, and I shall recollect with pride that for six years
he loved only _me_. He did not mention Mr. Brotherton: I think he has
heard, but if not, he will hear soon enough from other people. If we
were not so awfully poor, Nell, or if poverty were not so dreadful to
mamma, I _never_ would marry--_never_ while Cecil is a bachelor."

This was how Julia Gardiner announced that she meant to succumb to the
pressure of circumstances. Helen kissed her thankfully. She had been
very anxious for this consummation. It would be a substantial, permanent