shook her head.

"Tell me--everything," he said; "for God's sake!"

He saw her lips moving, and caught the murmur: "There 's nothing more.
Gratian and George know, and Leila. It can't be undone, Daddy. Perhaps I
wouldn't have wanted to make sure, if you hadn't tried to stop Cyril and
me--and I'm glad sometimes, because I shall have something of his--" She
looked up at him. "After all, it's the same, really; only, there's no
ring. It's no good talking to me now, as if I hadn't been thinking of
this for ages. I'm used to anything you can say; I've said it to myself,
you see. There's nothing but to make the best of it."

Her hot hand came out from under the bedclothes, and clutched his very
tight. Her flush had deepened, and her eyes seemed to him to glitter.

"Oh, Daddy! You do look tired! Haven't you been to bed? Poor Daddy!"

That hot clutch, and the words: "Poor Daddy!" brought tears into his
eyes. They rolled slowly down to his beard, and he covered his face with
the other hand. Her grip tightened convulsively; suddenly she dragged it
to her lips, kissed it, and let it drop.

"Don't!" she said, and turned away her face.

Pierson effaced his emotion, and said quite calmly:

"Shall you wish to be at home, my dear, or to go elsewhere?"

Noel had begun to toss her head on her pillow, like a feverish child
whose hair gets in its eyes and mouth.

"Oh! I don't know; what does it matter?"

"Kestrel; would you like to go there? Your aunt--I could write to her."
Noel stared at him a moment; a struggle seemed going on within her.

"Yes," she said, "I would. Only, not Uncle Bob."

"Perhaps your uncle would come up here, and keep me company."

She turned her face away, and that tossing movement of the limbs beneath
the clothes began again. "I don't care," she said; "anywhere--it doesn't
matter."

Pierson put his chilly hand on her forehead. "Gently!" he said, and
knelt down by the bed. "Merciful Father," he murmured, "give us strength
to bear this dreadful trial. Keep my beloved child safe, and bring
her peace; and give me to understand how I have done wrong, how I have
failed towards Thee, and her. In all things chasten and strengthen her,
my child, and me."

His thoughts moved on in the confused, inarticulate suspense of
prayer, till he heard her say: "You haven't failed; why do you talk of
failing--it isn't true; and don't pray for me, Daddy."

Pierson raised himself, and moved back from the bed. Her words
c