shall have to go to that horrid
Stow, unless mother has got an invitation for me, and mother will be so
upset. She'll be so angry!"

What could May say to give the girl any real understanding of her own
responsibilities? Was she to drift about like a leaf in the wind,
without principles, with no firm basis upon which she could stand and
take her part in the struggle of human life?

What was to be done?

May did her best to put her thoughts into the plainest, simplest words.
She had to begin at the beginning, and speak as to a child. As she went
on May discovered that one thing, and one thing only, really impressed
Gwen, and that was the idea of courage. Coward as she was, she did grasp
that courage was of real value. Gwen had a faint gleam of the meaning of
honour, when it was a question of courage, and upon this one string May
played, for it gave a clear note, striking into the silence of the poor
girl's moral nature.

She got the girl to promise that she would try and take the misfortune
of her youth with courage and meet the future bravely. She even induced
Gwendolen then and there to pray for more courage, moral and physical,
and she did not leave her till she had added also a prayer for help in
the future when difficulties and temptations were in her path. They were
vague words, "difficulties and temptations," and May knew that, but it
is not possible in half an hour to straighten the muddle of many years
of Belinda and Co.

"Have courage," she said at last, "I must go, Gwen. Good-night," and May
stooped down to kiss the dark head on the pillow. "God protect you; God
help you!"

"Good-night," sighed Gwen; "I'll try and go to sleep. But could
you--could you put that umbrella into the wardrobe and poke up the fire
again to make a little light?"

And May put the umbrella away in the wardrobe and poked up the fire.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE ANXIETIES OF LOUISE

The one definite thought in May's mind now was that she must leave
Oxford before the Warden's return. A blind instinct compelled her to
take this course.

It was not easy for her to say to Lady Dashwood quite unconcernedly:
"You won't mind my running away to-morrow, will you? You won't mind if I
run off, will you? All your troubles are over, and I do want to get back
to-morrow. I have lots of things to do--to get ready before Monday."

It was not easy to say all this, but May did say it. She said it in the
corridor as they were bidding each oth