ss and by the precise directions she had
issued for his comforts, indicating a mind so much more at ease. She was
firmer to meet the peril of her beloved: and being indeed, when thrown on
her internal resources, one among the brave women of earth, though also
one who required a lift from circumstances to take her stand calmly
fronting a menace to her heart, she saw the evidence of her influence
with Lord Romfrey: the level she could feel that they were on together so
long as she was courageous, inspirited her sovereignly.

He departed at the hour settled for him. Rosamund sat at her boudoir
window, watching the carriage that was conducting him to the railway
station. Neither of them had touched on the necessity of his presenting
himself at the door of Dr. Shrapnel's house. That, and the disgust
belonging to it, was a secondary consideration with Lord Romfrey, after
he had once resolved on it as the right thing to do: and his wife admired
and respected him for so supreme a loftiness. And fervently she prayed
that it might not be her evil fate to disappoint his hopes. Never had she
experienced so strong a sense of devotedness to him as when she saw the
carriage winding past the middle oak-wood of the park, under a wet sky
brightened from the West, and on out of sight.

CHAPTER L

AT THE COTTAGE ON THE COMMON

Rain went with Lord Romfrey in a pursuing cloud all the way to Bevisham,
and across the common to the long garden and plain little
green-shuttered, neat white cottage of Dr. Shrapnel. Carriages were
driving from the door; idle men with hands deep in their pockets hung
near it, some women pointing their shoulders under wet shawls, and boys.
The earl was on foot. With no sign of discomposure, he stood at the
half-open door and sent in his card, bearing the request for permission
to visit his nephew. The reply failing to come to him immediately, he
began striding to and fro. That garden gate where he had flourished the
righteous whip was wide. Foot-farers over the sodden common were
attracted to the gateway, and lingered in it, looking at the long,
green-extended windows, apparently listening, before they broke away to
exchange undertone speech here and there. Boys had pushed up through the
garden to the kitchen area. From time to time a woman in a dripping
bonnet whimpered aloud.

An air of a country churchyard on a Sunday morning when the curate has
commenced the service prevailed. The boys were subdued by