"Why not? It would be happier for you, child; forget the past and begin afresh. He is a good boy, and by-and-by he will be well off."
"You, too—you advise me to do this?" she answered with unwonted bitterness. "Oh, how wise and calculating one ought to be to live happily in this miserable world!"
He looked pained.
"I cannot do you any good," he said, rather brokenly. "God knows I would if I could. I can only be a curse to you. Give me at least the credit of unselfishly wishing you to be less unhappy than you are."
And then the crowd, moving onwards, parted them from each other.
"Do not forget to meet me at the Bath," she called out to him as he went.
"Oh, to be sure! I had forgotten. I will be there just before the dancing begins."
And then Denis Wilde took his place by her side.
If Mrs. Kynaston surpassed herself in looks and animation that day, Vera, on the contrary, had never looked less well.
Her eyes were heavy with sleepless nights and many tears; her movements were slower and more languid than of wont, and her face was pale and thin.