n will soon be over. I shouldn't mind giving up the few things
that remain. We'd have lovely times together, and lead the simple life,
and drink milk, and go to bed early, and give our poor tired hair a
rest. It would be fun, wouldn't it, dear? Say you would like it too!"

Vanna looked thoughtfully at the lovely face. Jean was in earnest; and
to one of her warmhearted, impulsive nature to be in earnest meant to be
content with no half measures, but to insist upon wholesale surrender.
It would be useless to protest, and indeed she had no wish to do so.
Jean's flight would not avail; the fates had decreed that she and Robert
Gloucester should meet, and would not be coerced from their plan--of
that she was quietly convinced; at the same time, she felt a keen
sympathy with the shattering of Edith's romance, and was content that
Jean should put herself beyond the reach of blame.

"Oh, yes, I'd love to go," she replied. "It will be delightful to have
you all to myself, and I'm in no mood for functions. But are you quite
sure you won't be bored? You won't find it too lonely?"

"Oh, well!" replied Jean, laughing. "Incidentally, there is Piers
Rendall! He went down last week to fish, and to cheer his mother. He
shall cheer us, too. Well, then, it's all settled. You'll go alone
to-night, and to-morrow morning bright and early we'll set off for the
sea. I wish I had not bought that white dress..."

So it was arranged, and at eight o'clock that evening, Vanna entered
Mrs Morton's drawing-room alone, and saw a shadow fall over Robert
Gloucester's face, while Edith listened to the offered explanations with
a surprise from which she loyally strove to banish any trace of relief.
A shy girl of sixteen was summoned from the schoolroom to fill the
vacant place at the table, and, putting aside his own disappointment,
Gloucester insisted upon claiming her as his own partner, and kept her
happy and amused throughout the meal. In the drawing-room his laugh was
as cheery and content as if he had never known a care, and Vanna noticed
that in a tactful, unobtrusive fashion he performed many of the duties
overlooked by the host of the evening. It was he who observed that the
draught from an open window was too strong for a delicate guest; he who
turned aside from a laughing group to speak to the solitary occupant of
a sofa; he who started an interesting topic of conversation, when the
old showed signs of wearing thin; and the Mo