d
infested the great hills. A small feeling of shame and regret began to
develop with annoying insistence.

An hour dragged itself by before she arose petulantly, half terrified,
half annoyed in spite of herself. Her husband still was sitting in the
big chair, his face in his hands. His small, dejected figure appealed
to her pity for the first time in the two years of their association.
She realized what her temper had compelled her to say to him and to
his sister; she saw the insults that at least one of them had come to
resent.

"I hope that foolish girl will come back," she found herself saying,
with a troubled look from the window. "Where can the poor thing go?
What will become of her? What will everyone say when this becomes
known?" she cried, with fresh selfishness. "I--I should not have let
her go like this."

Even as she reproached herself, a light broke in upon her
understanding; a thought whirled into her brain and a moment later a
shrill, angry, hysterical laugh came from her lips.

"She knew where she could go! How simple I am. Shaw will welcome her
gladly. She's with him by this time--his doors have opened to her. The
little wretch! And I've been trying so hard to pity her!" She laughed
again so shrilly that his lordship stirred and then looked up at her
stupefied, uncertain.

"Hullo," he grunted. "What time is it?"

"Oh, you're awake, are you?" scornfully.

"Certainly. Have I been dozing? What's there to laugh at, my dear?" he
mumbled, arising very unsteadily. "Where's Pen?"

"She's gone. She's left the house," she said, recurring dread and
anxiety in her voice. A glance at the darkness outside brought back
the growing shudders.

"What--what d'ye mean?" demanded he, bracing up with a splendid
effort.

"She's left the house, that's all. We quarrelled. I don't know where
she's gone. Yes, I do know. She's gone to Shaw's for the night. She's
with him. I saw her going," she cried, striving between fear and
anger.

"You've--you've turned her out?" gasped Lord Bazelhurst, numbly. "In
the night? Good Lord, why--why did you let her go?" He turned and
rushed toward the door, tears springing to his eyes. He was sobering
now and the tears were wrenched from his hurt pride. "How long ago?"

"An hour or more. She went of her own accord. You'll find her at
Shaw's," said her ladyship harshly. She hated to admit that she was to
blame. But as her husband left the room, banging the door after him,
she caugh