Later on, when perhaps it is a woman's bitter lot to find that her self-abnegation was all in vain, there may come to her some passionate regrets for the squandered strength and the wasted devotion. But even then (if that devotion has been of the purest kind), I think that her life is not so poor as the lives of some of her wiser sisters, who have never loved well enough to lavish anything. Moreover, I believe it is impossible for a woman of the best type to exhaust the store-house of her affections. Like the widow's cruse of oil, it is ever replenished by some unseen power.

In the course of the next day, there came an affectionate little note from Marian, asking us to dine at her aunt's house in Curzon Street, and fixing an early date. Ronald's face brightened at the invitation.

"We have been living like two hermits," he said. "It's time that we saw a little more of the world. Not that I am tired of your society, Louie; but I'm afraid I shall bore you awfully if you never see any one else, and I like this friend of yours; she is worth knowing."

I, too, was well pleased, although my pleasure was considerably damped by the consciousness of having to wear an old gown. Marian was, I knew, incapable of any unkindly criticism; but other eyes might look less indulgently on my old frock. Sixpences and shillings were very precious in these days, and I shrank even from purchasing the cheap lace that could be converted into an adornment for the neck and bosom of my well-worn black satin.

"What is the matter, little woman? Why are you looking so grave?" my husband demanded, when the day came.

"Oh, I was thinking about dress," I answered, incautiously. "I am so shabby, you know."

His brow darkened.

"What a nuisance poverty is!" he said, in an impatient tone. "It's hard that my wife can't dine out without worrying herself to death about the state of a gown. I should like to deck you in diamonds, Louie, but—"

He paused, and the very mention of diamonds sent a strange thrill of remembrance through my brain. When had we ever had anything to do with diamonds? And yet I was haunted by a vague notion that I had once seen myself glittering with splendid gems. So vivid was this impression that I forgot all about my old black silk, and sat staring into space, wondering from what source this phantom of memory had been produced.

"I recollect now," I said, with a little laugh. "One night, soon after we came here, you were lying asleep, and I was sewing by your bedside. It was late; I dropped into a doze, and dreamed that I was standing before a glass, with diamonds flashing on my head and neck. You can't imagine how clear the dream was, Ronald. At this moment I can scarcely believe that it was only a dream. It seems as if I had verily handled and worn those diamonds."