PTER X: CINDERELLA

i

Through the darkness, and into the brightness of the moon's light, the
rolling notes of Big Ben were echoing and re-echoing, as each stroke
followed and drove away the lingering waves of its predecessor and was
in turn dispersed by the one that came after. The sounds made the street
noises sharper, a mere rattle against the richness of the striking
clock. It was an hour that struck; and the quarters were followed by
twelve single notes. Midnight. And Jenny Blanchard was still upon the
_Minerva;_ and Emmy and Alf had left the theatre; and Pa Blanchard was
alone in the little house in Kennington Park.

The silvered blackness of the _Minerva_ was disturbed. A long streak of
yellow light showed from the door leading into the cabin while yet the
sounds of the clock hung above the river. It became ghostly against the
moonlight that bleached the deck, a long grey-yellow finger pointing the
way to the yacht's side.

Jenny and Keith made their way up the steps and to the deck, and Jenny
shivered a little in the strong light. Her face was in shadow. She
hurried, restored to sanity by the sounds and the thought of her
father. Horror and self-blame were active in her mind--not from the fear
of discovery; but from shame at having for so long deserted him.

"Oh, hurry!" Jenny whispered, as Keith slipped over the side of the
yacht into the waiting dinghy. There was a silence, and presently the
heavy cludder of oars against the boat's side.

"Jenny! Come along!" called Keith from the water.

Not now did Jenny shrink from the running tide. Her one thought was to
get home; and she had no inclination to think of what lay between her
and Kennington Park. She hardly understood what Keith said as he rowed
to the steps. She saw the bridge looming, its black shadow cutting the
water that sparkled so dully in the moonlight; and then she saw the
steps leading from the bridge to the river's edge. They were alongside;
she was ashore; and Keith was pressing her hand in parting. Still she
could not look at him until she was at the top of the steps, when she
turned and raised her hand in farewell.

ii

She knew she had to walk for a little way down the road in the direction
of her home, and then up a side street, where she had been told that
she would find the motor car awaiting her. And for some seconds she
could not bear the idea of speaking to the chauffeur, from the sense
that he must know exactly how long sh