ce upraised.
In her despair, and utter sincerity, she was once more beautiful--with
a tragic beauty of character and expression, not lost for one moment
upon the man beside her.

He laid his right hand on her head amid the masses of her fair hair,
and held it there, forcing her head back a little, studying her in
a bitter passion--the upper lip drawn back a little over the teeth,
which held and tormented the lower.

'Twelve years!' he said, slowly, after a minute, his eyes plunging
into hers--'twelve years! What do you know of me now?--or I of you?
I should offend you twenty times a day. And--perhaps--it might be the
same with me.'

Phoebe released herself, and laid her head against his knee.

'John!--take me back--take me back!'

'Why did you torture me?' he said, hoarsely. 'You sent me Carrie six
weeks ago--and then swept her away again.'

She cried out. 'It was the merest accident!' And
volubly--abjectly--she explained.

He listened to her, but without seeming to understand--his own mind
working irrelevantly all the time. And presently he interrupted her.

'Besides--I'm unhinged--I'm not fit to have women dependent on me. I
can't answer for myself. Yesterday--if that picture had come at eight
o'clock instead of seven--it would have been too late!'

His voice altered strangely.

Phoebe fell back upon the floor, huddled together--staring at him.

'What do you mean?'

'I should have destroyed myself. That's what I mean. I had made up my
mind. It was just touch and go.'

Phoebe sat speechless. It seemed as though her eyes--so wide and
terrified--were fixed in their places, and could not release him. He
moved impatiently; the appeal, the horror of them, were more than he
could bear.

'And much better for you if I had!--and as for Carrie!--Ah!--good
Heavens! there she is.'

He sprang up in agitation, looking through the open window, yet
withdrawing from it. Phoebe too rose, the colour rushing back into
her cheeks. This was to be her critical, her crucial moment. If she
recovered him, she was to owe it to her child.

Carrie and Miss Mason came along the path together. They had been in
a wood beside the Elterwater road; not knowing how to talk to each
other; wandering apart, and gathering flowers idly, to pass the time.
Carrie held a large bunch of bluebells in her hand. She wore a cotton
dress of greyish-blue, just such a dress as Phoebe might have worn in
her first youth. The skirt was short, and show