. Then
he drew back, and whispering: "Oh, Nedda! Nedda!" fled out like a
dark ghost. Oblivious that she was damp from head to foot, Nedda stood
swaying, her eyes closed and her lips just open; then, putting out her
arms, she drew them suddenly in and clasped herself....

When she came down to breakfast the next morning, he had gone out
already, and Uncle Tod, too; her aunt was writing at the bureau. Sheila
greeted her gruffly, and almost at once went out. Nedda swallowed
coffee, ate her egg, and bread and honey, with a heavy heart. A
newspaper lay open on the table; she read it idly till these words
caught her eye:

"The revolt which has paralyzed the hay harvest on Sir Gerald
Malloring's Worcestershire estate and led to the introduction of
strike-breakers, shows no sign of abatement. A very wanton spirit of
mischief seems to be abroad in this neighborhood. No reason can be
ascertained for the arson committed a short time back, nor for this
further outbreak of discontent. The economic condition of the laborers
on this estate is admittedly rather above than below the average."

And at once she thought: '"Mischief!" What a shame!' Were people, then,
to know nothing of the real cause of the revolt--nothing of the Tryst
eviction, the threatened eviction of the Gaunts? Were they not to know
that it was on principle, and to protest against that sort of petty
tyranny to the laborers all over the country, that this rebellion had
been started? For liberty! only simple liberty not to be treated as
though they had no minds or souls of their own--weren't the public
to know that? If they were allowed to think that it was all wanton
mischief--that Derek was just a mischief-maker--it would be dreadful!
Some one must write and make this known? Her father? But Dad might think
it too personal--his own relations! Mr. Cuthcott! Into whose household
Wilmet Gaunt had gone. Ah! Mr. Cuthcott who had told her that he was
always at her service! Why not? And the thought that she might really
do something at last to help made her tingle all over. If she borrowed
Sheila's bicycle she could catch the nine-o'clock train to London, see
him herself, make him do something, perhaps even bring him back with
her! She examined her purse. Yes, she had money. She would say nothing,
here, because, of course, he might refuse! At the back of her mind
was the idea that, if a real newspaper took the part of the laborers,
Derek's position would no longer be