have any escort at all. "Do not think of such a thing; I
could not allow it." Mrs. Middlemass came to Miss West's aid, and
alleged in her ignorance, "There is no occasion for it, Mr. Nairne; it
is only a step to Carter Hill, and Miss West is accustomed to walk
across after dinner, when Miss Sandys has a message for us. Remember, we
are very quiet people here compared to what you are in the north.
Besides, if Miss West is timid, I can manage to send a servant, or," she
went on with greater hesitation, "Mr. Middlemass will be delighted to
go, he knows the way; but you must not put yourself about on any
consideration."

Miss West rather indignantly denied being timid, timidity being out of
her _role_, and then she judged prematurely that the matter was settled.
She had got so accustomed to order about girls that she had fallen into
the bad habit of expecting that her will should be law to all the world,
with the exception of Miss Sandys. As for Mr. and Mrs. Middlemass, they
at least knew that she could take care of herself.

It was another shock to Miss West, another tumultuous, inopportune
return to the experience of half a score years back, to find that she
could no more dictate to Bill Nairne on this small matter than she could
have done it as Mad of the old days.

"Say no more about it, Miss West. I'll go home with you, of course."
Bill thus put her down with an intrepidity, if anything, increased with
his increased weight physically and commercially.

This completely confounded Miss West, and made a greater muddle of her
former and her present identities than had yet been effected.

"I'll see Miss West home, and we'll have a talk together of our old
friendship as we walk along," Bill maintained with the confident
coolness of power, towards the self-contained, self-sustained teacher.

It was something unprecedented for Miss West to be walking to Carter
Hill on a man's arm, an old friend's arm. She felt an odd sensation
stealing over her as if she were no longer able to take care of herself,
as if she were no longer herself, her late self, at all; and the moon
helped the illusion.

Silence descended on Miss West and Bill Nairne, after the first forced
commonplaces. He glanced furtively at her, and lost his confidence and
coolness, and hung his head--the respectable prosperous merchant!--but
not at what _he_ saw. What did she see? Nothing but that the sword had
worn the scabbard. Mad had been true to herself. Mad