how bitterly!"

As Eleanor listens to Mrs. Kachin, she feels involuntarily drawn
towards her by force of contrast. Their natures are so widely
different, for Eleanor was ever lenient, kind-hearted, and forgiving,
while Elizabeth is hard, determined, not easily swerved from a purpose.

"Where does your mother live?"

"I hardly know; she is a roving spirit, with no settled home. But her
loveless old age is the penalty she must pay for a misused youth. Once
she wrote and told me she had enough money laid by to come here if I
would receive her."

"And you refused?"

"Most certainly."

"Oh! how _could_ you!" cries Eleanor, her eyes flashing with
indignation.

"I consider the way I have acted since I came to years of discretion is
simply just retribution. There is a saying that justice begins next
door. I have practised it on my nearest of kin."

"You must be very cruel."

Elizabeth smiles vaguely. Her smile is her only beauty. It lights up
her stern face, and makes Eleanor forget that she has sandy eyelashes.

They talk together in the low verandah till long after Quinton should
have been home.

"He promised not to stay more than an hour with his friends, and it is
a two hours' ride," says Eleanor. "He left soon after one o'clock. It
is nearly dark."

Elizabeth detects the anxiety in her tone.

"Oh! you know what men are, they are worse than women! The Major has
probably a host of good stories, and the Captain is plying him with
wine and some extra special cigars. Don't worry, my dear Mrs. Quinton,
he is sure to be late."

She presses Eleanor's hand, and wishes her good-bye.

Then Mrs. Katchin hurries up the hill to her hut, where big Tombo is
growling at her absence, and little Tombo getting into endless
mischief, which only his mother's watchful eye can prevent.

Night has fallen, but still Eleanor waits on the verandah, with
widely-opened eyes, staring along the zigzag path by which Carol rode
away. She remembers he turned back to look at her three times, kissing
his hand twice. What can have detained him? Surely he knows how
nervous she is!

Eleanor rises and walks up and down distractedly, her face ashen pale,
her figure trembling.

He has had an accident--she is certain of it. The road, he said was
lonely and rough; it winds near a precipice, the loose stones and
boulders roll down the slope of the hill and fall into the abyss.

Perhaps his horse has fallen a victim to disease u