he little hat that he
liked her best in, and over it fastened her thickest veil. Then, putting
on her travelling coat and gloves, she looked in the long mirror, and
seeing that there was nothing more to keep her, lifted her dressing bag,
and went down.

Over on the embankment a child was crying; and the passionate screaming
sound, broken by the gulping of tears, made her cover her lips, as though
she had heard her own escaped soul wailing out there.

She leaned out of the cab to say to the maid:

"Go and comfort that crying, Ella."

Only when she was alone in the train, secure from all eyes, did she give
way to desperate weeping. The white smoke rolling past the windows was
not more evanescent than her joy had been. For she had no illusions--it
was over! From first to last--not quite a year! But even at this moment,
not for all the world would she have been without her love, gone to its
grave, like a dead child that evermore would be touching her breast with
its wistful fingers.

CHAPTER XXVII

Barbara returning from her visit to Courtier's deserted rooms, was met at
Valleys House with the message: Would she please go at once to Lady
Casterley?

When, in obedience, she reached Ravensham, she found her grandmother and
Lord-Dennis in the white room. They were standing by one of the tall
windows, apparently contemplating the view. They turned indeed at sound
of Barbara's approach, but neither of them spoke or nodded. Not having
seen her grandfather since before Miltoun's illness, Barbara found it
strange to be so treated; she too took her stand silently before the
window. A very large wasp was crawling up the pane, then slipping down
with a faint buzz.

Suddenly Lady Casterley spoke.

"Kill that thing!"

Lord Dennis drew forth his handkerchief.

"Not with that, Dennis. It will make a mess. Take a paper knife."

"I was going to put it out," murmured Lord Dennis.

"Let Barbara with her gloves."

Barbara moved towards the pane.

"It's a hornet, I think," she said.

"So he is!" said Lord Dennis, dreamily:

"Nonsense," murmured Lady Casterley, "it's a common wasp."

"I know it's a hornet, Granny. The rings are darker."

Lady Casterley bent down; when she raised herself she had a slipper in
her hand.

"Don't irritate him!" cried Barbara, catching her wrist. But Lady
Casterley freed her hand.

"I will," she said, and brought the sole of the slipper down on the
insect, so that it dropp