things, you know, in a court of law," he had
said, as if with casual amiability, on a certain occasion. "Proving
things is the devil. People lose their tempers and rush into rows which
end in lawsuits, and then find they can prove nothing. If I were a
villain," slightly showing his teeth in an agreeable smile--"instead
of a man of blameless life, I should go in only for that branch of my
profession which could be exercised without leaving stupid evidence
behind."

Since his return to Stornham the outward decorum of his own conduct had
entertained him and he had kept it up with an increasing appreciation of
its usefulness in the present situation. Whatsoever happened in the end,
it was the part of discretion to present to the rural world about him an
appearance of upright behaviour. He had even found it amusing to go to
church and also to occasionally make amiable calls at the vicarage. It
was not difficult, at such times, to refer delicately to his regret that
domestic discomfort had led him into the error of remaining much away
from Stornham. He knew that he had been even rather touching in his
expression of interest in the future of his son, and the necessity of
the boy's being protected from uncontrolled hysteric influences. And, in
the years of Rosalie's unprotected wretchedness, he had taken excellent
care that no "stupid evidence" should be exposed to view.

Of all this Betty was thinking and summing up definitely, point after
point. Where was the wise and practical course of defence? The most
unthinkable thing was that one could find one's self in a position in
which action seemed inhibited. What could one do? To send for her father
would surely end the matter--but at what cost to Rosy, to Ughtred, to
Ffolliott, before whom the fair path to dignified security had so newly
opened itself? What would be the effect of sudden confusion, anguish,
and public humiliation upon Rosalie's carefully rebuilt health and
strength--upon her mother's new hope and happiness? At moments it seemed
as if almost all that had been done might be undone. She was beset by
such a moment now, and felt for the time, at least, like a creature tied
hand and foot while in full strength.

Certainly she was not prepared for the event which happened. Roland
stiffened his ears, and, beginning a rumbling growl, ended it suddenly,
realising it an unnecessary precaution.

He knew the man walking up the incline of the mound from the side behind
th