ore her.
Oh, what a meeting--what a meeting! What a rolling away of the stone!
Thank God for giving me my share in bringing it about!

Wenham Thorold came back, and sat by my side. We were both shaking with
excitement, but we talked resolutely to pass the time. I asked him if
Mr Hallett had been told of my dual personality, and he smiled, and
said:--

"Oh, yes, he was interested--as much interested as he could be in
anything outside! But not surprised! He and I were constantly puzzled
by your extraordinary youth! The get-up was excellent, but your manner,
your movements--they did not belong to an elderly woman. Circumstances
favoured you, of course! You were naturally quiet and reserved on our
first meeting, and then Billy's illness cast a gloom over us all. Every
one seems older in a period of anxiety; but as soon as the cloud lifted
your vitality asserted itself." He looked at me anxiously. "This--this
reunion will make a difference to your life? It will take away your
friend."

"Yes, it will. My friends all go," I said a little bitterly. "I am
trying not to think of myself, but only to rejoice for her; but it is
hard!"

"That house in the country! You shared it together? Couldn't you make
it your home instead of the flat? It would be more--suitable. This
fairy godmother scheme is possible for a few months, with a home in the
background, to which you can return at any moment, but now that you will
be alone, you are too young. It does not seem right. Couldn't you"--he
looked at me apologetically--"carry on the same work in the country in
your own name? Make the house a country resort for lame dogs who need a
rest, for example? There would be plenty of applicants."

"It's impossible! I can't explain. I can never return to `Pastimes'
alone." I spoke shortly. The subject was difficult. So far, I had not
thrashed it out even in thought. Mr Thorold shot a quick, keen glance.
Instinctively, I knew where his thoughts were wandering. He was
thinking of the bluff country Squire who had been so kind to his own
little girls, remembering that he came from the same neighbourhood; that
Evelyn Wastneys and he had been friends.

The stupid colour flamed in my cheeks. I made haste to turn the
conversation from myself.

"It will make a difference to you, too. You will miss your friend!"

"Yes, but--I have borne the great loss, Miss Wastneys; I can spare him
gladly, to _his joy_. When one has kno