he was herself at Nap's sudden move, and she determined that
she would stand by him at whatever cost.

And after all, the difficult moment passed very quickly. People crowded
round them with kindly words, shook hands with them, chaffed them both,
and seemed to be genuinely pleased with the turn of events. Mrs. Errol
came forward in her hearty way and kissed them; and in the end Dot found
herself in Bertie's vacated place on the arm of Lucas's chair, with his
steady hand holding hers, and his quiet, sincere voice telling her that
he was "real glad that the thing was fixed up at last."

Later Bertie took her home in the motor, and explained the situation to
the rector, who was mildly bewildered but raised no definite objection to
the announcement of the engagement. He was something of a philosopher,
and Bertie had always been a favourite of his. Nap in fact was the only
member of the Errol family for whom he did not entertain the most
sincere esteem; but, as Dot remarked that night, Nap was a puzzle to
everybody. It seemed highly probable after all that he carried a kind
heart behind his cynical exterior. She was sure that Lady Carfax thought
so, since she invariably treated him as an intimate friend.

The rector admitted that she might be right, but after Dot had gone to
bed he leaned his elbow on his writing-table and sat long in thought.

"I wonder," he murmured to himself presently, "I wonder if Lady Carfax
knows what she is doing. She really is too young, poor girl, to be so
much alone."

CHAPTER VII

A QUESTION OF TRUST

The theatricals were arranged to take place on an evening in the
beginning of July, and for that one night Mrs. Errol persuaded Anne to
sleep at Baronmead. She would not consent to leave the Manor for longer,
for she still superintended much of the management of the estate and
overlooked the agent's work. She had begun to wonder if all her days
would be spent thus, for the reports which reached her regularly of her
husband's state of health were seldom of a hopeful nature. In fact they
varied very little, and a brain specialist had given it as his opinion
that, though it was impossible to speak with certainty, Sir Giles might
remain in his present condition of insanity for years, even possibly for
as long as he lived. He was the last of his family, and the title would
die with him. And Anne wondered--often she wondered--if it were to be her
lot to live out the rest of her life alone.