every other minute in
helpless laughter from all three. Meanwhile, Hastings, who had been
standing behind the singers, his hands in his pockets, a rare and
shamefaced pleasure shining from his care-worn face, thought he heard the
cart, and looked out. Yes, it was the Missis, as he liked to call Miss
Henderson, and he ran down to meet her.

"Well, I suppose there were fine doings at Millsborough, Miss," he said,
as he held the horse for her to get down.

"Yes--there were a lot of people. It was very noisy."

"We thought you'd hear our noise, Miss, as far as the road! Miss
Leighton, she's been keeping us all alive. She took the girls to
church--to the Thanksgiving Service, while I looked after things."

"All right, Hastings," said Miss Henderson, in a voice that struck his
ear strangely. "Thank you. Will you take the cart?"

He thought as he led the horse away, "She's been overdoin' it again. The
Cap'n will tell her so."

Rachel climbed the little slope to the front door. It seemed an Alp.
Presently she stood on the threshold of the sitting-room, in her thick
fur coat, looking at the group round the piano. Janet glanced round,
laughing. "Come and join in!" And they all struck up "God Save the
King"--a comely group in the lamplight, Jenny and Betty lifting their
voices lustily. But they seemed to Rachel to be playing some silly game
which she did not understand. She closed the door and went upstairs to
her own room. It was cold and dark. She lit a candle, and her own face,
transformed, looked at her from the glass on the dressing-table. She gave
a weary, half-reflective sigh. "Shall I be like that when I'm old?"

She took off her things, and changed mechanically into an afternoon
dress, her mind, like a hunted thing, running hither and thither all the
time.

Presently she got up and locked the door. She must think--_think_--by
herself.

It would be quite easy to defy Roger--quite easy to lie, and lie
successfully, if only she was sure of herself, and her own will to carry
things through. Roger could prove nothing--or that vulgar boy--or
anybody. She had only to say, "I went to find Lucy Tanner, who was my
friend--she wasn't there--I was overtaken by the storm--and Dick Tanner
looked after me till I could get home."

It was the most natural--the most plausible story. If Delane forced
himself on George with any vile tale, Ellesborough would probably give
him in charge for molesting his former wife. There was abs