t."
And then he went after them; and Elizabeth saw that Anna was hanging on
his arm as they went down the steps and that Cedric's hand was on his
shoulder.

"How happy they are!" she thought a little enviously; "they are both
devoted to him, and he certainly returns their affection. He is good
and kind to every one but me," she continued resentfully: "if Dinah had
said that, he would not have answered her so curtly and then turned on
his heel and left her." Here Elizabeth wilfully ignored the fact that
Cedric had signalled to him somewhat impatiently.

"I believe that he has made a vow not to speak to me if he can help it."

Elizabeth was in a restless, irritable frame of mind that prevented her
from taking a reasonable view of things. If she had been less alive to
her own embarrassment and discomfort, she would have discovered for
herself that Malcolm was ill at ease too.

If he had not talked much to her, he had watched her closely, and it
had troubled and pained him to see how thin and worn she looked; in the
strong light he had even noticed a faint tinge of gray in her bright
brown hair.

"She is pitiless to herself as well as to me," he said to himself
bitterly; "if she goes on like this, she will be an old woman before
her time. Her life is too limited: it suits Dinah, but it does not suit
Elizabeth. Why should she spend her lime teaching village children and
fagging after that old man"--for Malcolm was growing hopeless and
embittered.

The evening had not been productive of much comfort to either of them;
a sense of widening estrangement, of ever-deepening misunderstanding
kept them apart. When Elizabeth went to the piano--for she had been
induced to resume her singing--Malcolm did not follow her; neither did
she sing one of his favourite songs. Even when Dinah innocently
recalled one that she remembered he loved, and begged her sister to
sing it, Elizabeth obstinately refused. "Oh, that old thing!" she said
contemptuously; "I am so tired of it." But Malcolm was quite aware of
her reason for refusing: she would make no effort to please him, for
fear he should be encouraged to repeat his offence.

The next morning things were no better. Cedric had asked Malcolm to
walk with them to the valley. It was a glorious morning--bright and
fresh and sweet--"just the day for a prowl," as Cedric said. "You will
come too. Betty?" he continued; but to every one's surprise Elizabeth
demurred to this.

"She was very s