cealed fund of spirits. As a general rule, I do not much care for people who are afraid to show their feelings."
"Afraid?" asked he, in astonishment.
"Yes; I said afraid. What else is it but want of courage which makes a man sit down quietly and hide his thoughts, conceal his convictions, live a false life, and play a part from morning to night? It were better to do like your friend out there"—and she gave a toss of her head towards Delphin—"to talk so grandly about one's principles, and to illustrate them by paradoxes and witticisms."
Jacob Worse now saw that he had found Rachel in a more earnest mood than he had expected.
"I have often observed," said he, seriously, "that you always think that it is a man's duty to speak out boldly when he finds his convictions are in danger; but allow me to explain"
"I don't want to hear any explanations," rejoined Rachel, "and you are not bound to give me any; but I repeat what I said. It is cowardly."
She regretted the word the moment it was spoken. She said it because she had just used the same expression in her conversation with Johnsen; but, how ever, without saying anything further, she went into the house.
Jacob Worse remained thoughtfully contemplating his cigar. At last, then, the storm had burst. The ill humour he had so long noticed in her had found vent. He knew she meant what she said. She thought he was a coward. There had hitherto been a kind of
