he man she loved, she had at least escaped the prison
which the wrong man's love can make for a woman. Just as no other man
than Peter would ever hold her heart, so henceforth no kiss but his
would ever touch her lips. But for Peter the burden would be heavier.
It would be different--harder. Could she not guess how infinitely
harder? And there was nothing in the world which might avail to
lighten that burden. Only, perhaps, later on, it might comfort him to
know that, though in this world they could never come together, the
woman he loved was his completely, that she had surrendered nothing of
herself to any other man.

She picked up her letter to Roger and made her way downstairs,
intending to drop it herself into the post-box at the gates of Mallow.
Once it had left her hands for the close guardianship of that scarlet
tablet streaked against the roadside wall she would feel more at ease.

As she turned the last bend of the stairs she came upon an agitated
little group of people clustering round Sandy McBain, who had
apparently only recently arrived. Her hand tightened on the banister.
Why had everyone collected in the hall? Even one or two scared-looking
servants were discernible in the background, and on every face sat a
strange, unusual gravity. Nan felt as though someone had suddenly
slipped a band round her heart and were drawing it tighter and tighter.

Nobody seemed to notice her as with reluctant, dragging footsteps she
descended the remainder of the staircase. Then Ralph caught sight of
her and exclaimed: "Here's Nan!" and her name ran through the group in
a shocked murmur of repetition, followed by a quick, hushed silence.

"What is it?" she asked apprehensively.

Several voices answered, but only the words "Roger" and "accident" came
to her clearly out of the blur of sound.

"What is it?" she repeated. "What has happened?"

"There's been an accident," began Barry awkwardly. "Lady Gertrude--"

"Is she killed?"--in shocked tones.

"No, no. But she had another attack this morning--heart, or
temper--and as the doctor was out when they 'phoned for him, she sent
Roger rushing off post-haste in the car to find him and bring him
along. And"--he hesitated a little--"I'm afraid he's had rather a bad
smash-up."

Nan's face went very white, and half-unconsciously her grip tautened
round the letter she was holding, crushing it together.

"Do you mean--in the car?" she asked in a queer, stiff voic