ed the narrow stairs and went up them, clutching
at the rail.

He followed her to the foot and stood there watching her. As she reached
the top he heard her sob.

An impulse caught him to follow her, to take her again--but how
differently!--into his arms,--to soothe her, to comfort her, to win her
back to him. But sternly he put it from him. She had got to learn her
lesson, to realize her obligations,--she who talked so readily of leaving
him! And for what?

A wave of hot blood rose to his forehead, and he clenched his hands. He
went back into the room, knowing that he could not trust himself.

When Mrs. Rickett entered with a lamp a few moments later, he was
gathering up the litter of books and paper from the table, his face white
and sternly set. He gave her a brief word of greeting, and went across to
the school with his burden.

CHAPTER VI

COALS OF FIRE

It was nearly half-an-hour later that Mrs. Rickett ascended the stairs
and knocked at Juliet's door.

"Supper's been in this long time," she called. "And Mr. Green's still
over at the school."

There was a brief pause, then Juliet's quiet movement in the room. She
opened the door and met her on the threshold.

"Why, you haven't got a light!" said Mrs. Rickett. "Is there anything the
matter, ma'am? Aren't you well?"

"Yes, quite, thank you," Juliet said in her slow gentle voice. "I am
afraid I forgot the time. I will put on my hat before I come down."

Mrs. Rickett's eyes regarded her shrewdly for a moment or two, then
looked away. "Shall I fetch you a candle?" she said.

Juliet turned back into the room. "I have one, thank you. Perhaps you
wouldn't mind going to find Mr. Green while I dress."

Mrs. Rickett hastened away, and Juliet lighted her candle and surveyed
herself for a second, standing motionless before the glass.

Several minutes later she descended the stairs and went quietly into the
dining-room. She was wearing a large-brimmed hat that shadowed her face.

Dick, standing by the mantelpiece, waiting for her, gave her a hard and
piercing look as she entered.

"I am sorry I am late," she said.

He moved abruptly as if somehow the conventional words had an edge. He
drew out a chair for her. "I am afraid there isn't a great deal of
time," he said.

She sat down with a murmured word of thanks. He took his place, facing
her, very pale, but absolutely his own master. He served her silently,
and she made some pretence of eating, k