t Susan and her family might have a provision supplied for them,
which would relieve Nettie? He had not thought of it, that was all.
Instead of that, he had accepted the impossibility. Nettie's heart had
grown impatient in the maze of might-be's. She turned her back upon the
lights, and clasped Miss Wodehouse's hand, and said good-night hastily.
She went on by herself very rapidly along the hard gleaming road. She
did not pay any attention to her friend's protestation that she too was
coming back again to St Roque's to join Lucy--on the contrary, Nettie
peremptorily left Miss Wodehouse, shaking hands with her in so resolute
a manner that her gentle adviser felt somehow a kind of necessity upon
her to pursue her way home; and, only when Nettie was nearly out of
sight, turned again with hesitation to retrace her steps towards St
Roque's. Nettie, meanwhile, went on at a pace which Miss Wodehouse could
not possibly have kept up with, clasping her tiny hands together with a
swell of scorn and disdain unusual to it in her heart. Yes! Why did not
Edward Rider propose the "arrangement" which appeared feasible enough to
Miss Wodehouse? Supposing even Nettie had refused to consent to it, as
she might very probably have done with indignation--still, why did it
not occur to Dr Edward? She asked herself the question with a heat and
passion which she found it difficult to account for. She half despised
her lover, as woman will, for obeying her--almost scorned him, as woman
will, for the mere constancy which took no violent measures, but only
suffered and accepted the inevitable. To submit to what cannot be helped
is a woman's part. Nettie, hastening along that familiar path, blazed
into a sudden burst of rage against Edward because he submitted. What he
could do else she was as ignorant of as any unreasonable creature could
be. But that mattered little. With indignation she saw herself standing
on the verge of that domestic precipice, and the doctor looking on, seeing
her glide out of his reach, yet putting forth no violent sudden hand to
detain her. All the impatience of her fiery nature boiled in her veins
as she hasted to the cottage, where Susan was discussing their journey
with her Australian visitor. No remnant of pathos or love-sickening
remained about Nettie, as she flashed in upon them in all her old haste
and self-reliance--resolute to precipitate the catastrophe which nobody
took any measures to prevent.

CHAPTER XV.