have no thought of
moving to higher ground.

Magdalen knew these signs, and sometimes her heart sank.

Was Fay unconsciously turning aside to busy herself over little things
that were not required of her, in order to shut her eyes to the one
thing needful--a great act of reparation?

If Fay was watching Magdalen, someone else was watching Fay. Bessie's
round, hard, staring eyes were upon her, and if Bessie did anything she
did it to some purpose.

One afternoon in the middle of April Bessie came into Magdalen's sitting
room and sat down with an air of concentration.

"I have reason to be deeply ashamed of myself," she said. "I _am_
ashamed of myself. If I tell you about it it is not in order that you
may weakly condone and gloss over my conduct."

Magdalen reflected that Bessie had inherited her father's graceful way
of approaching a difficulty by finding a preliminary fault in his
listener.

Bessie shut her handsome mouth firmly for a moment, and then opened it
with determination.

"I thought that whatever faults I had I was at any rate a lady, but I
find I am not. I discovered something by the merest chance a short time
ago, and since then, for the last fortnight I have been acting in a
dishonourable and vulgar manner, in short, spying upon another person."

"That must have made you miserable."

"It has. I am miserable. But I deserve that. I did not come to talk
about that. The point is this----"

"Bessie, I don't want to hear what you evidently ought not to know."

"Yes, you must, because someone else needs your advice."

"We won't trouble our minds about the someone else."

Bessie had, however, inherited another characteristic trait of her
father's. She could ignore when she chose. She chose now.

"I may as well put you in possession of the facts," she continued. "A
few weeks ago I was coming home by Pilgrim Road. I was not hurrying
because I was struck, as I always am struck--I don't suppose I am
peculiar in this--by the first appearance of spring. Pilgrim Road is a
sheltered place. Spring always comes early there."

"It does."

"I will even add that I was recalling to myself verses of poetry
connected with the time of year, when I saw a couple in front of me.
They were walking very slowly with their backs towards me, taking
earnestly together. They were Fay and Wentworth."

Magdalen made no movement, but her face, always pale, became suddenly
ashen grey.

If Fay were seriously attracted b