ange wonder no more shall amaze
My spirit."

ANON.

If you see trouble in the back of a girl's eyes look always for a man in
the case. That was Miss Abercrombie's philosophy of life. Girls do not
as a rule get into trouble over money, for debts or gambling. She had
spent the whole of her practical life in studying girls; she knew fairly
well the ins and outs of their complicated natures. Joan was in trouble
of sorts; what then had become of the man? Until the time came when the
girl would be driven to speak--and Miss Abercrombie was sure the time
would come sooner or later--she was content to stay silent and observant
in the background of events. Often Joan felt as though the shrewd eyes
were drawing the unwilling truth from behind her mask of indifference,
and she was, in a way, afraid of the little, alert woman who seemed to
be taking such an intense though silent interest in her.

For the first fortnight Gilbert wrote every day. To begin with, his
letters were cheerful. He was inclined, indeed, to chaff her for losing
her temper over his mother's visit.

"The old lady is gone," he wrote on the third day. "You can
come back with perfect safety. She never smelt a rat, but
tried to talk to me very seriously about taking unto myself a
wife. It was on the tip of my tongue once or twice to tell her
that I was already as good as married. Don't keep on being
stuffy, Joan, hurry up and come back. You can't think what a
lot I miss you, little girl, or how much I want you."

It was the first of his letters that she made any attempt to answer and
her reply was not easy to write. She had come very suddenly to her
decision as she had stood within the circle of Gilbert's arms that
morning and answered his arguments about his mother. Now she was
realizing that for weeks before that her allegiance had been wavering.
She had no wish to go back to him. She could not understand herself, but
the fact was self-evident, even though the scent of heliotrope haunted
her days and crept into the land of her dreams. Her letter, when it was
finished, struck her as cold and stupid, yet she let it go; she could
not somehow make her meaning any clearer.

"Dear Gilbert," she wrote, "I am sorry you do not seem to be
understanding that what I wrote in my first letter is really
true. It is all finished between us and I am not coming back.