and its wide oak staircase. There was the round table in the middle
under the electric chandelier and the dim portraits on the walls. All
was familiar, and all had been thought of as hers for a time, all too
short; for a day that now seemed as if it could never have been; for a
dream and no part of the reality of Gwen's life.

There outside was the car which was to take her away for ever. Robinson
Junior was holding open the door, his snub nose well in the air, his
cheeks reddened by the chill autumn wind. He was waiting for her to get
in. Then he would bang the door to, and have done with her, and the
Lodgings would never again have anything to do with her--nor Oxford.

Oh, it was too wretched, but brave she would be, and Mrs. Dashwood at
least would pity her and understand. What Lady Dashwood thought she did
not care so very much.

Gwen went down the steps and got into the car. Robinson Junior did bang
the door. He banged it and caught a piece of Gwendolen's skirt. Then he
opened the door with ferocity as if it was somebody else's fault.
Gwendolen pulled her skirt and he banged the door to again. This time it
shut her out from the Lodgings. The last moment had come. The car moved.
The two ladies waved their hands. Robinson Junior raised his finger to
his ear. The car turned and went out of the Court into the narrow
street.

It was all over! Robinson Junior did not come in. He slipped somewhere
round at the back with mysterious swiftness, and Lady Dashwood shut the
door herself. It was like closing a book at "The End" or writing a last
Will and Testament. It was all over!

Then Lady Dashwood, who had been so composed that May had been deceived
into thinking that she had almost recovered from her excitement and
fatigue, suddenly leaned against the hall table. "May!" she called.

May did not hear her name called, she was already retreating up the
staircase to her room as hastily as she dared. There was not much time,
and yet she had not told her Aunt Lena yet that she meant to leave that
very morning; she had mentioned no hour.

Her luggage was packed and labelled. Her hat and coat and gloves,
exactly the things she had arrived in from Malvern, were there waiting
for her to put them on and go away. Meanwhile _he_ was in Town, little
dreaming of what was happening. He would be back soon. It would be
horrible if he arrived before she left, and there was still an hour
before she must start for the station! She would