sequel, he bolted.

Then the unfortunate woman, nearly fainting, but supported by her grand
common sense and her invincible nature, left the kitchen and, followed by
Rachel, went to the library. Here she sat down for a moment to collect
herself whilst Rachel stood watching her and waiting.

"It is so and it's not so," said she at last, talking half to herself half
to the woman. "It's some trick of Silas Grangerson's. But the main thing
is no one must know. We have got to get her back. No one must
know--Rachel, go and find Seth and send him off at once to the garage
place and tell them to let me have an automobile at once, at once, mind
you. Tell them I want the quickest one they've got for a long journey."

Rachel went off and Miss Pinckney left to herself went down on her knees
by the big settee adjoining the writing table and began to wrestle with
the situation in prayer. Miss Pinckney was not overgiven to prayer. She
held that worriting the Almighty eternally about all sorts of nonsense, as
some people do who pray for "direction" and weather, etc., was bad form to
say the least of it. She even went further than that, and held that
praising him inordinately was out of place and out of taste. Saying that,
if Seth or Dinah came singing praises at her bedroom door in the morning
instead of getting on with their work, she would know exactly what it
meant--Laziness or concealed broken china, or both.

But in moments of supreme stress and difficulty, Miss Pinckney was a
believer in prayer. Her prayer now was speechless, one might compare it to
a mental wrestle with the abominable situation before God.

When she rose from her knees everything was clear to her. Two things were
evident. Phyl must be got back at any cost, and scandal must be choked,
even if it had to be choked with solid lies.

To save Phyl's reputation, Miss Pinckney would have perjured herself twice
over.

Miss Pinckney had many faults and limitations, but she had the grand
common sense of a clean heart and a clear mind. She could tell a lie with
a good conscience in a good cause, but to hide even a small fault of her
own, the threat of death on the scaffold would not have made her tell a
lie.

She went to the writing table now and taking a sheet of paper, wrote:

_Dear Richard,_

Seth Grangerson is bad again, and I am going over there now with
Phyl. We mayn't be back to-night. I am taking the automobile. We will
be back to-morrow most lik