for her thoughts were not a little
disturbed. She had met Thorn in the afternoon and noted a puzzling change
in his manner. So far, she had been able to check his cautious advances,
but she now remarked a new confidence that seemed to indicate he had some
power in reserve. She admitted that she might have imagined this, but it
troubled her.

Afterwards she had met Kit and the comfort the meeting gave her had
forced her to think. Their friendship had gone far; in fact, it had
reached a point friendship could not pass. Kit was not yet her lover, but
she thought he waited for a sign that she would acknowledge him when he
made his claim. She liked Kit; she had not met a man she liked so much.
This, however, did not imply that she was willing to marry him. Although
she now and then rebelled against conventions, she had inherited some of
Osborn's prejudices, and her mother sprang from old-fashioned land-owning
stock. Kit belonged to another class; the life he led was different. She
had been taught to enjoy cultivated idleness, broken by outdoor sports
and social amusements; but Kit was a worker, farming for money and
resolved to make his efforts pay. His wife must help and Grace did not
know if this daunted her or not.

Moreover, if she married Kit, she must quarrel with her parents. She knew
what Osborn thought about him. Had she been sure she loved Kit, the
choice would have been easier, but although she blushed as she mused,
this was too much to own. Yet he loved her, and after all--

She let the matter go and looked up, for there were steps in the shadowy
road. Then a figure came into the fading light, and she started and ran
to the gate.

"Gerald!" she exclaimed. "Why have you come home?"

"Somehow you don't feel flattered when people ask you why you came,"
Gerald rejoined with a forced smile. "It rather indicates surprise than
satisfaction."

"I am surprised," Grace admitted, trying to hide her vague alarm. "We
did not expect you. How did you getaway?"

"I took a week's leave. I haven't been very fit."

Grace gave him a sharp glance and thought he looked ill. His face was
pinched, his eyes were furtive, and his mouth was slack.

"What has been the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing very much," Gerald replied. "Mental strain, I expect. Managing a
bank is a big job and I'm not used to responsibility."

It looked as if his carelessness cost him an effort and Grace said
nothing. When they reached the house Gerald re