ome. The morning's rather a bad time for her. Could you stay for the
whole day?"

"Of course," Rachel said.

At the end of the evening she went up to Lizzie's room; when midnight
rang from the tower they parted, but first, Rachel said:

"Lizzie, I wonder whether you realize what you've been--to all of us--to
me of course ... but to the others--to the whole family."

"Oh! Nonsense!"

"Roddy was speaking about it yesterday. He said that you were the most
wonderful person in all the world for making all the difference without
saying or doing anything--by just being there."

"Oh, Roddy thinks everybody----"

"But this is what I'm coming to. You can't yourself know how much
difference you make to everyone. But there's just this.... Roddy feels
and I feel that when--He--comes (of course it'll be a boy) we'd rather
have you for his friend than anyone in the whole world. You will--you
will be, won't you?"

"My dear--I should _think_ so. I'll whack him and bath him and snub him
and teach him his letters--anything you like." Then she added, rather
gravely:

"There's one thing, Rachel, I've wanted to say for some time. I want you
to know definitely, that all wounds are closed now, everything's
healed--about Mr. Breton, I mean. I was afraid that you might think I
still cared.... That's all ended, closed up, that little episode.

"You needn't be afraid, Rachel. I'm happier, I'm freer than I've ever
been in my life.... Good night, my dear. Your friendship is more to me
than any number of heart-burnings.... I was always meant to be
independent, you know...."

II

It was very strange to Rachel, who had been, on so many, many evenings,
to that other room, to pause now outside this new door, to knock with
the house solemn and still around her, to hear Dorchester's voice, then,
with the old hesitation and--yes--with some of the old fear, to enter.

She had considered what she would say. Coming down in the train she had
turned it over and over--her apology, her submission, her cry: "See, I'm
different--utterly different from the Rachel whom you knew.... I was a
prig of the very worst. I deserved everything you thought of me. Just
say you forgive me even though you can't like me." This was the kind of
thing that, in the train, had seemed possible enough; now, with the
opening of the door and that sharp recurrence of the old thrill, she was
not at all sure that she wanted to be submissive and affectionate. "I
don't feel fo