could not deliberately leave
the house and spend some hours away with the thought of such wrath and
misery left behind her. Gradually she was returning to her natural self;
fear and penitence were chill at her heart.

She went down to the study, tapped, and entered.

'Father, I said something that I did not really mean. Of course I shall
go on with the copying and finish it as soon as possible.'

'You will do nothing of the kind, my girl.' He was in his usual place,
already working at Marian's task; he spoke in a low, thick voice. 'Spend
your evening as you choose, I have no need of you.'

'I behaved very ill-temperedly. Forgive me, father.'

'Have the goodness to go away. You hear me?'

His eyes were inflamed, and his discoloured teeth showed themselves
savagely. Marian durst not, really durst not approach him. She
hesitated, but once more a sense of hateful injustice moved within her,
and she went away as quietly as she had entered.

She said to herself that now it was her perfect right to go whither
she would. But the freedom was only in theory; her submissive and timid
nature kept her at home--and upstairs in her own room; for, if she
went to sit with her mother, of necessity she must talk about what had
happened, and that she felt unable to do. Some friend to whom she could
unbosom all her sufferings would now have been very precious to her, but
Maud and Dora were her only intimates, and to them she might not make
the full confession which gives solace.

Mrs Yule did not venture to intrude upon her daughter's privacy. That
Marian neither went out nor showed herself in the house proved her
troubled state, but the mother had no confidence in her power to
comfort. At the usual time she presented herself in the study with her
husband's coffee; the face which was for an instant turned to her did
not invite conversation, but distress obliged her to speak.

'Why are you cross with Marian, Alfred?'

'You had better ask what she means by her extraordinary behaviour.'

A word of harsh rebuff was the most she had expected. Thus encouraged,
she timidly put another question.

'How has she behaved?'

'I suppose you have ears?'

'But wasn't there something before that? You spoke so angry to her.'

'Spoke so angry, did I? She is out, I suppose?'

'No, she hasn't gone out.'

'That'll do. Don't disturb me any longer.'

She did not venture to linger.

The breakfast next morning seemed likely to pass without any