had behaved dishonourably. But,
whatever the result, she was ready to bear it. It would be a very
small atonement for her sin against love!

* * * * * *

The following day she returned to Mallow Court to be greeted warmly by
Kitty. Once or twice the latter glanced at her a trifle uneasily as
though she sensed something different in her, but it was not until
later on, over a fire lit to cheat the unwonted coolness of the
evening, that Nan unburdened herself.

Kitty said very little. But she and Barry were as much lovers now as
they had been the day they married, and she understood.

"I think you're right," she commented slowly.

"I know I am," answered Nan with quiet conviction. "I feel as though
all this time I had been profaning our love. Now I want to keep it
quite, quite sacred--in my heart. It wouldn't make any difference even
if Peter ceased to care for me. It's my caring for him that matters."

"Shall you--do you intend to see Roger?"

"No. I shall write to him to-morrow. But if he still wishes to see me
after that, of course I can't refuse."

"And Peter?"

"He will have gone."

Kitty shook her head.

"No. He sails the day after to-morrow. He couldn't get a berth
before."

"Then"--very softly and with a quiet radiance in her eyes--"then I will
write to him to-morrow--after I've written to Roger."

Nan fell silent, gazing absently into the fire. There was a deep sense
of thankfulness in her heart that she would be able to heal the hurt
she had done Peter before he went East to face the bitter and difficult
thing which awaited his doing. A strange sense of comfort stole over
her. When she had written her letter to Roger, retracting the promise
she had given him, she would be free--free to belong wholly to the man
she loved.

Though they might never be together, though their love must remain for
ever unconsummated, still in her loneliness she would know herself
utterly and entirely his.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE GATES OF FATE

The fishing party returned to Mallow the following morning. They were
in high spirits, full of stories and cracking jokes about each other's
prowess or otherwise--especially the "otherwise," although, both men
united in praising Penelope's exploits as a fisherwoman.

"Beginner's luck, of course!" chaffed Barry. "It was your first
serious attempt at fishing, wasn't it, Penny?"

"Yes. But it's not going to be my last!" she