s able he was coming in
person to apologise.

Charmion listened quietly to the repetition of this announcement. When
the maid left the room, she turned to me as I lay on the sofa, being
very sorry for myself, and lifted inquiring brows.

"Well, Evelyn. You know what this means?"

I did, or thought I did, but prevaricated, feeling self-conscious.

"What?"

"You have cut the knot with your heroic rescue! The Squire will call;
the General will call; the neighbouring sheep will follow in their
train. We shall be graciously `forgiven' and admitted into the fold.
Our quiet, sent-to-Coventry existence is at an end."

I looked at her anxiously. From voice and manner it was impossible to
tell what she was really feeling. Above all things I wanted to please
her. But still--

"Are you sorry, Charmion? Would you be sorry? I suppose they _will_
come, but there is no necessity to receive them, if you would rather
not. After ignoring us so long, they could not complain. I will leave
it to you to decide."

"Then they shall come," she said firmly. "You've been a brick about it,
dear, but I'm not blind. I know that it has been a trial for you to be
cut off from general society. You are a sociable creature, and need
friends around you. We have had a happy _tete-a-tete_, and I've enjoyed
it thoroughly, but it couldn't go on. I should not have _allowed_ it to
go on. I am a selfish woman in many ways, but not selfish enough to
make a hermit of you at twenty-six. So!--let them all come. In any
case, we shall probably be making a move before very long, so we can't
be drawn very deeply into the rustic maelstrom!"

"_We shall be making a move_."

The words gave me a jar. My "Kensington" flat is now in order, and
ready to receive my furniture whenever I care to send it in. I am still
in love with the Pixie scheme; but, while summer lasts, and the garden
grows more beautiful every day, I want to stay here! In my own mind I
had settled down till September at least. I had believed that Charmion
was as happy as myself, but now the old restlessness sounded in her
voice. I looked at her, and saw her eyes staring wearily into space.
Oh dear, oh dear, the narcotic of the new life is already losing its
power; the grim spectre of the past is casting its shadow between us!

They have called! This afternoon, when we were having tea in the
garden, General Underwood's bath-chair appeared suddenly on the scene.
First came