e one luxury of never coming down to
breakfast, had just made it for herself over a little spirit-lamp. She
greeted Nedda with lifted eyebrows.

"Oh, my darling! Where HAVE you come from? You must have my nice cocoa!
Isn't this the most perfect lamp you ever saw? Did you ever see such a
flame? Watch!"

She touched the spirit-lamp and what there was of flame died out.

"Now, isn't that provoking? It's really a splendid thing, quite a new
kind. I mean to get you one. Now, drink your cocoa; it's beautifully
hot."

"I've had breakfast, Granny."

Frances Freeland gazed at her doubtfully, then, as a last resource,
began to sip the cocoa, of which, in truth, she was badly in want.

"Granny, will you help me?"

"Of course, darling. What is it?"

"I do so want Derek to forget all about this terrible business."

Frances Freeland, who had unscrewed the top of a little canister,
answered:

"Yes, dear, I quite agree. I'm sure it's best for him. Open your mouth
and let me pop in one of these delicious little plasmon biscuits.
They're perfect after travelling. Only," she added wistfully, "I'm
afraid he won't pay any attention to me."

"No, but you could speak to Aunt Kirsteen; it's for her to stop him."

One of her most pathetic smiles came over Frances Freeland's face.

"Yes, I could speak to her. But, you see, I don't count for anything.
One doesn't when one gets old."

"Oh, Granny, you do! You count for a lot; every one admires you so. You
always seem to have something that--that other people haven't got. And
you're not a bit old in spirit."

Frances Freeland was fingering her rings; she slipped one off.

"Well," she said, "it's no good thinking about that, is it? I've wanted
to give you this for ages, darling; it IS so uncomfortable on my finger.
Now, just let me see if I can pop it on!"

Nedda recoiled.

"Oh, Granny!" she said. "You ARE--!" and vanished.

There was still no one in the kitchen, and she sat down to wait for her
aunt to finish her up-stairs duties.

Kirsteen came down at last, in her inevitable blue dress, betraying
her surprise at this sudden appearance of her niece only by a little
quivering of her brows. And, trembling with nervousness, Nedda took her
plunge, pouring out the whole story--of Derek's letter; their journey
down; her father's talk with him; the visit to Tryst's body; their
walk by the river; and of how haunted and miserable he was. Showing the
little note he had left that mo