nursery, as she had
played alone until Donal came, so it was her fate to be alone now.

"But you came away from London because there were too many people there
and you wanted to be in a place where there was nothing but an empty
cottage and an old woman. Some would call it lonelier here."

"The wood is here--the fairy wood!" she cried and her sobbing broke
forth tenfold more bitterly.

Mrs. Bennett had seen in her day much of the troubles of others and many
of the things she had seen had been the troubles of women who were
young. Sometimes it had been possible to help them, sometimes it had
not, but in any case she had always known that help could be given only
if one asked careful questions. The old established rules with regard to
one's behaviour in connection with duchesses and their belongings had
strangely faded away since the severing of her root as all things on
earth had faded and lost consequence. She remembered no rules as she
bent her head over the girl and almost whispered to her.

"I won't ask no questions after this one, Miss dear," she said quaking.
"But was there ever--a young gentleman--in the wood?"

"No! No! No! No!" four times again Robin cried it. "Never! Never!" And
she lifted her face and let her see it white and streaming and with eyes
which desperately defied and as they defied implored for love and aid
and mercy.

The old fairy woman's nutcracker mouth trembled. It mumbled pathetically
before she was able to control it. She knew she had heard this kind of
thing before though in cases with which great ladies had nothing
whatever to do. And at the same time there was something in this case
that was somehow different.

"I don't know what to say or do," she faltered helplessly. "With the
world like this--we've got to try to comfort each other--and we don't
know how."

"Let me come into your arms," said Robin like a child. "Hold me and let
me hold you." She crept near and folding soft arms about the old figure
laid her cheek against the black shawl. "Let us cry. There's nothing for
either of us to do but cry until our hearts break in two. We are all
alone and no one can hear us."

"There's naught but the wood outside," moaned the old fairy woman.

The voice against the shawl was a moan also.

"Perhaps the wood hears us--perhaps it hears. Oh! me! Oh! me!"

* * * * *

When she reached London she saw that there were excited groups of people
talking togethe