ht--a
letter which made no revelation of her feelings, but merely expressed a
cold curiosity to hear anything that might become known as to the
course of Mr. Widdowson's domestic troubles. 'You may still write to
this address; if I leave, letters shall be forwarded.'

When the sky cleared she went out. In the evening she again rambled
about the shore. Evidently Barfoot had gone; if still here, he would
have watched and joined her.

Her solitude now grew insufferable, yet she could not decide whither to
betake herself. The temptation to return to London was very strong, but
pride prevailed against it. Everard might perhaps go to see his cousin,
and relate all that had happened at Seascale, justifying himself as he
had here done. Whether Miss Barfoot became aware of the story or not,
Rhoda could not reconcile it with her self-respect to curtail the
stipulated three weeks of holiday. Rather she would strain her nerves
to the last point of endurance--and if she were not suffering, then
never did woman suffer.

Another cheerless day helped her to make up her mind. She cared nothing
now for lake and mountain; human companionship was her supreme need. By
the earliest train next day she started, not for London, but for her
brother's home in Somerset, and there she remained until it was time to
return to work. Miss Barfoot wrote twice in the interval, saying that
she had heard nothing more of Monica. Of Everard she made no mention.

Rhoda got back again to Chelsea on the appointed Saturday afternoon.
Miss Barfoot knew when she would arrive, but was not at home to meet
her, and did not return till a couple of hours had passed. They met at
length as if nothing remarkable had occurred during the three weeks.
Mary, if she felt any solicitude, effectually concealed it; Rhoda
talked as if very glad to be at home again, explaining her desertion of
the lake country by the bad weather that prevailed there. It was not
till after dinner that the inevitable subject came up between them.

'Have you seen Everard since you went away?' Miss Barfoot began by
asking.

So he had not been here to tell his story and plead his cause--or it
seemed not.

'Yes, I saw him at Seascale,' Rhoda replied, without sign of emotion.

'Before or after that news came?'

'Both before and after. I showed him your letter, and all he had to say
was that he knew nothing of the affair.'

'That's all he has to say to me. I haven't seen him. A letter I sent to