ace under the khaki hat, of the young form in the trim
tunic and leggings, and, not least, of the admiring crowd about her, kept
returning upon the man's furious sense as something not to be borne, a
recurrent blow from which he could not escape.

And that American chap--that Yankee officer who had walked off with her
to the church--what was the meaning of that? They were not strangers,
that was plain. She had beckoned to him from the cart. The manner of
their short conversation, indeed, showed them well acquainted. She told
him to go and speak--and he had gone--with alacrity--smiling back at her.
Courting, no doubt! Rachel could never let a man alone--or live, without
a man after her. A brutal phrase shaped itself--a vile epithet or
two--flung into the solitude of the lane.

When he emerged from the trees into a space of greater light between two
stubble fields, Delane suddenly drew a letter from his pocket. While
Rachel was flaunting with "lots of money"--this was how his affairs were
going.

"DEAR ROGER,--I can do nothing for you. Your demands are simply
insatiable. If you write me any more begging letters, or if you attempt
again to force your way into my house as you did last week, I shall tell
the bank to cancel your allowance, and wash my hands of you altogether.
My husband's determined to stop this kind of thing. Don't imagine you can
either threaten us, or come round us. We have tried again and again to
help and reform you. It is no good--and now we give you up. You have
worn us out. If you are wise, you will not answer this--and if you keep
quiet the allowance shall be continued. MARIANNE TILNEY."

That was a nice letter to get from a man's only sister! Allowance! What
was L100 a year to a woman as rich as Marianne? And what was the use
of L100 a year to him, with living at the price it was now? His wretched
pittance besides, doled out to him by his father's trustees under his
father's will, brought his whole income up to L300 a year. How was a man
to live on that, and support a woman and child?

And here was Rachel--free--bursting with health--and possessed of "lots
of money." She thought, no doubt, that she had done with him--thrust him
out of her life altogether. He'd let her see! Whose fault was it that he
had taken up with Anita? Nagging, impossible creature!--with her fine
ladyisms and her tempers, and her insolent superior ways!

He walked on, consumed with a bitterness which held him like a physic