WHITEWASH
Philippa was a name—no more: Valdeck a nightmare! And as for the worthless love that had occupied his heart, Morton awoke with a start to find it utterly gone—the rainbow bubble of his senses had been dispelled. He saw clearly now, saw through the glamour to the utter sham of it, saw the narrow, calculating mind, the small, mean soul, and the overwhelming vanity that swathed Philippa from top to toe in a garment of hypocrisy—saw, and did not care! His grief had disappeared with the renewal of his mental vision. Why should he regret where there was nothing worthy of regret? He could only curse himself for a fool, and wonder that he had ever owned a doubt, or that his loyal friendship should have failed the girl beside him—his "little twin" of the old days, and always.
Victoria was busy with her own thoughts, but happy in the regained companionship of her chum. She felt instinctively the chrysalis breaking in his mind, and the beautiful butterfly of their mutual understanding evolving itself more splendid than the rudimentary, though beloved, little grub of their childish affection.
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