"

The same idea occurred at once to both Wilhelmina and Macheson.

"You are going down to the village, Mrs. Foulton?" Wilhelmina asked
gravely.

"I'm going down to have a bit of talk with Mr. Stephen Hurd, madam," she
answered grimly. "I'd be glad to clear away as soon as convenient."

Wilhelmina turned round in her chair, and laid her hand upon the woman's
arm.

"Mrs. Foulton," she said, "Mr. Macheson and I are going to see him at
once. Leave it to us, please."

Mrs. Foulton shook her head doubtfully.

"Letty's my daughter, madam, thank you kindly," she said. "I must go
myself."

Wilhelmina shook her head.

"No!" she said firmly. "You can go and see him afterwards, if you like.
Mr. Macheson and I are going to see what we can do first. Believe me,
Mrs. Foulton, it will be better for Letty."

The woman was shaken and Wilhelmina pushed home her advantage.

"We are going straight to the village now, Mrs. Foulton," she said. "You
will only have to be patient for a very short time. Come, Mr. Macheson.
If you are ready we will start."

They walked briskly along the country lane, through the early twilight.
They said little to one another.

Macheson was profoundly moved by the tragedy of Letty's disappearance.
With his marvellous gift of sympathy, he had understood very well the
suffering of the woman whom they had just left. He shivered when he
thought of the child. With every step they took, his face resolved
itself into grimmer lines. Wilhelmina was forced at last to protest.

"After all," she said, touching his arm, "this young man will scarcely
run away. Please remember that I am not an athletic person--and I have
not much breath left."

He slackened his pace at once.

"I am sorry," he said. "I was forgetting."

"Yes," she answered simply, "you were forgetting. I--noticed it!"

To Macheson, her irritation seemed childish--unworthy. He knew so little
of women--or their moods.

"What are you going to say to Stephen Hurd?" he asked abruptly.

"I shall make him marry Letty Foulton," she answered.

"Can you do it?" he demanded.

"He must marry her or go," she declared. "I will make that quite clear."

Macheson drew a little breath. He suddenly realized that for all his
impetuosity, the woman who walked so calmly by his side held the cards.
He slackened his pace. The lane had narrowed now, and on either side of
them was a tall holly hedge. Her hand stole through his arm.

"Well," she said softly,