Derrick, and Emmeline did not know what pains the girl had taken,
ever since her arrival, to live in conformity with the habits of a
'nice' household.

Louise, meanwhile, had gone to the railway station, intending to
take a ticket for Victoria. But half an hour must elapse before the
arrival of a train, and she walked about in an irresolute mood. For
one thing, she felt hungry; at Sutton her appetite had been keen,
and meal-times were always welcome. She entered the refreshment
room, and with inward murmurs made a repast which reminded her of
the excellent luncheon she might now have been enjoying. All the
time, she pondered her situation. Ultimately, instead of booking for
Victoria, she procured a ticket for Epsom Downs, and had not long to
wait for the train.

It was a hot day at the end of June. Wafts of breezy coolness passed
now and then over the high open country, but did not suffice to
combat the sun's steady glare. After walking half a mile or so,
absorbed in thought, Louise suffered so much that she looked about
for shadow. Before her was the towering ugliness of the Grand Stand;
this she had seen and admired when driving past it with her friends;
it did not now attract her. In another direction the Downs were
edged with trees, and that way she turned. All but overcome with
heat and weariness, she at length found a shaded spot where her
solitude seemed secure. And, after seating herself, the first thing
she did was to have a good cry.

Then for an hour she sat thinking, and as she thought her face
gradually emerged from gloom--the better, truer face which so often
allowed itself to be disguised at the prompting of an evil spirit;
her softening lips all but smiled, as if at an amusing suggestion,
and her eyes, in their reverie, seemed to behold a pleasant promise.
Unconsciously she plucked and tasted the sweet stems of grass that
grew about her. At length, the sun's movements having robbed her of
shadow, she rose, looked at her watch, and glanced around for
another retreat. Hard by was a little wood, delightfully grassy and
cool, fenced about with railings she could easily have climbed; but
a notice-board, severely admonishing trespassers, forbade the
attempt. With a petulant remark to herself on the selfishness of
"those people," she sauntered past.

Along this edge of the Downs stands a picturesque row of pine-trees,
stunted, bittered, and twisted through many a winter by the upland
gales. Louise notic