o. Stephen, won't you trust me in
this, blindfold?' There was something so sweet and loving in the way she
made the request that Stephen was filled with emotion. She put her arms
round her aunt's neck and hugged her tight. Then laying her head on her
bosom she said with a sigh:

'Oh, my dear, you can't know how I trust you; or how much your trust is
to me. You never can know!'

The next day the two women held a long consultation over the schedule of
Leonard's debts. Neither said a word of disfavour, or even commented on
the magnitude. The only remark touching on the subject was made by Miss
Rowly:

'We must ask for proper discounts. Oh, the villainy of those tradesmen!
I do believe they charge double in the hope of getting half. As to
jewellers . . . !' Then she announced her intention of going up to town
again on Thursday, at which visit she would arrange for the payment of
the various debts. Stephen tried to remonstrate, but she was obdurate.
She held Stephen's hand in hers and stroked it lovingly as she kept on
repeating:

'Leave it all to me, dear! Leave it all to me! Everything shall be paid
as you wish; but leave it to me!'

Stephen acquiesced. This gentle yielding was new in her; it touched the
elder lady to the quick, even whilst it pained her. Well she knew that
some trouble must have gone to the smoothing of that imperious nature.

Stephen's inner life in these last few days was so bitterly sad that she
kept it apart from all the routine of social existence. Into it never
came now, except as the exciting cause of all the evil, a thought of
Leonard. The saddening memory was of Harold. And of him the sadness was
increased and multiplied by a haunting fear. Since he had walked out of
the grove she had not seen him nor heard from him. This was in itself
strange; for in all her life, when she was at home and he too, never a
day passed without her seeing him. She had heard her aunt say that word
had come of his having made a sudden journey to London, from which he had
not yet returned. She was afraid to make inquiries. Partly lest she
might hear bad news--this was her secret fear; partly lest she might
bring some attention to herself in connection with his going. Of some
things in connection with her conduct to him she was afraid to think at
all. Thought, she felt, would come in time, and with it new pains and
new shames, of which as yet she dared not think.

One morning came an enve