and freshened
early in the morning. She dared not brush it for fear of awakening
Stephanie; her toilet was swift and simple; she clothed herself rapidly
and stepped out into the hall, her rubber-soled walking shoes making no
noise.

Below, the side-lights of the door made unbolting and unchaining easy;
it would be hours yet before even the servants were stirring, but she
moved with infinite caution, stepping out onto the veranda and closing
the door behind her without making the slightest noise.

Dew splashed her shoes as she hastened across the lawn. She knew the
Estwich road even if there had been no finger-posts to point out her
way.

The sun had not yet risen; woods were foggy; the cattle in the fields
stood to their shadowy flanks in the thin mist; and everywhere, like the
cheery rush of a stream, sounded the torrent of bird-music from bramble
patch and alder-swale, from hedge and orchard and young woodland.

It was not until she had arrived in sight of Estwich Corners that she
met the first farmer afield; and, as she turned into the drive, the edge
of the sun sent a blinding search-light over a dew-soaked world, and her
long-shadow sprang into view, streaming away behind her across the lawn.

To her surprise the front door was open and a harnessed buck-board stood
at the gate; and suddenly she recollected with a hot blush that the
household must have been amazed and probably alarmed by her
non-appearance the night before.

Helene's farmer and her maid came out as she entered the front walk,
and, seeing her, stood round-eyed and gaping.

"I got lost and remained over night at Mrs. Collis's," she said,
smiling. "Now, I'd like a bath if you please and some fresh clothing for
travelling, because I am obliged to go to the city, and I wish to catch
the earliest train."

When at last it was plain to them that she was alive and well, Helene's
maid, still trembling, hastened to draw a bath for her and pack the
small steamer trunk; and the farmer sat down on the porch and waited,
still more or less shaken by the anxiety which had sent him pottering
about the neighbouring woods and fields with a lantern the night before,
and had aroused him to renewed endeavour before sunrise.

Bathed and freshly clothed, Valerie hastened into the pretty library,
seated herself at the desk, pushed up her veil, and wrote rapidly:

"MY DEAR MRS. COLLIS: My gratitude to you, to Mrs. Neville, and to Miss
Swift is none the less real b