n with a docility as new as it was touching. When Vanna skilfully
led the conversation to brighter topics, she slowly regained her
composure, and some of her old brightness, but her face still showed
signs of her distress, and Vanna inwardly quailed at the thought of
Robert's wrath when he returned and discovered the manner in which she
had inaugurated her arrival.

For every one's sake she considered it wise to avoid a second argument
that night, and returned to her own room to unpack before Robert
arrived, leaving Jean to break the news to him as she pleased. The
sound of his cheery whistle came up to her from the hall; she heard the
doors open and shut, and flushed and paled as she followed in
imagination the conversation in the room below. A quarter of an hour
passed, then came footsteps, and a tap at the door.

"Vanna! It's I! May I speak to you for a moment?"

The voice was cordial, with its old cheery note. At the sound of it
Vanna dropped the bundle of clothes which she was holding, and hurried
to fling open the door. Robert was standing before her, pale and, if
possible, thinner than ever, but with a great tenderness shining in his
eyes. Without preamble he took both her hands in his, and said:

"Jean has told me. She is your oldest friend. We want you to feel that
this is your home until you have one of your own. Ask Piers whenever
you like. He will always be welcome. There's the little den; it is at
your service. We'll do everything we can for you, Vanna."

But he did not congratulate her, and the lack smote on Vanna's heart.

"Thank you, Robert," she said wistfully. "That's like you. I am very
grateful, but, but can't you say you are _glad_? Piers and I love each
other very much, and we have been very lonely. Robert, you, of all
people, ought to be able to understand the possibility of a spiritual
love!"

But Robert only flushed, and looked distressed.

"We are not spiritual beings yet, Vanna. That's the trouble. I
understand the temptation. I don't presume to judge. Piers is a better
man than I. He may be able to rise where I should sink."

"What would _you_ do if you were in our place? If Jean were like me,
and you loved her, but could not marry?"

Robert's eyes craved pardon, but his lips did not hesitate:

"I should take a passage in the first boat, and put the width of the
world between us."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE REAPER.

Robert and Jean made no further rem