fied something other than the simple
interpretations vouchsafed.

The thing worried her a little, nagging at the back of her mind with the
pertinacity common to any little unexplained incident that has caught
one's attention. But, in the course of a few days, the manifold
happenings of daily life drove it out of her thoughts, not to recur
until many months had passed and other issues paved the way for its
resurgence.

Sara remained at Barrow until Tim had volunteered and been accepted, and
the settlement of her own immediate plans synchronizing with this last
event, it came about that it was only two hours after Tim's departure
that she, too, bade farewell to Elisabeth, in order to join up in London
with Lady Arronby's party.

Elisabeth stood at the head of the great flight of granite steps at
Barrow and waved her hand as the car bore Sara swiftly away, and across
the latter's mind flashed the memory of that day, nearly a year ago,
when she herself had stood in the same place, waiting to welcome
Elisabeth to her new home.

The contrast between then and now struck her poignantly. She recalled
Elisabeth as she had been that day--gracious, smiling, queening
it delightfully over her two big men, husband and son, who openly
worshipped her. Now, there remained only a great empty house, and that
solitary figure on the doorstep, standing there with white face and lips
that smiled perfunctorily.

Elisabeth turned slowly back into the house as the car disappeared round
the curve of the drive. For her, the moment was doubly bitter. One by
one, husband, son, and the woman whom she had ardently longed to see
that son's wife, had been claimed from her by the pitiless demands of
the madness men call War.

But there was still more for her to face. There was the utter downfall
of all her hopes, the defeat of all her purposes. She had striven with
the whole force that was in her to assure Tim's happiness. To compass
this, she had torn down the curtain of the past, proclaiming a man's
shame and hurling headlong into the dust the new life he had built
up for himself, and with it had gone a woman's faith, and trust, and
happiness.

And it had all been so futile! Two lives ruined, and the purchase price
paid in tears of blood; and, after all, Tim's happiness was as utterly
remote and beyond attainment as though no torrent of disaster had been
let loose to further it! Elisabeth had bartered her soul in vain.

In the solitude which