tening his cramped arms. The mad
output of strength which had saved Cassandra's life had left him almost
as much exhausted as herself, but so far he had had no time to think of
himself. Now that his work was over, the realisation would come.
Grizel poured out a glass of wine, and forced it into his hands.

"Drink it--this moment! You can't afford to break down, there's too
much to be done. We will stay with her here. You must go home for
help!"

"No!"

"Don't dispute, please... You will do as I say. Nature will help her
now; we can only leave her alone. You must go home and telephone,--to
the Club House for her husband, to the village for the doctor. They
must come straight here. And the car,--it must drive to the nearest
point, and wait. Possibly in an hour she may be able to walk. If not,
she can be carried."

"I'll carry her!"

"Her husband will carry her, or the men. Tell two men to come, and
bring brandy, smelling-salts, anything you think of. If you are wise
you will lie down yourself. You are worn out, and can do no good here.
We don't want two invalids. Now, please!"

For a moment Peignton stood gazing down at the motionless figure on the
grass. Then hunching his shoulders, turned inland, and took the field
path.

Teresa straightened herself to watch him as he went. She was kneeling
by Cassandra's side, but he had no glance for her. She watched him pass
swiftly down the narrow path between the barley and the oats. The
poppies blazed their brightest red; the patches of groundsel shone
golden in the sun.

Cassandra lay motionless, with closed eyes, her breathing growing
momentarily more natural and regular. Grizel smoothed the hair from her
brow, laid a practised finger on her pulse, and crept away, beckoning
Teresa to follow.

"All right! doing well. Leave her alone. The air is her best medicine.
Perhaps she will sleep. Teresa, dear! get me some wine."

She collapsed in a limp little heap on the grass, and raised a piteous
face. To evoke Teresa's pity for herself, not to pity Teresa, that was
her inspiration, and to this intent she made the most of the natural
exhaustion. Teresa waited upon her deftly, and then quite calmly and
sensibly proceeded to wait upon herself. Grizel's eyes widened with
amaze as she beheld the girl with a wine-glass in one hand, and a
sandwich, in the other, eating and drinking with as much apparent
composure as if the tragic interruption had never