tion, but concerning such things as she had
become aware of he would learn everything without alarming her.

"If those unhappy children met at her cottage and wandered about in
Mersham Wood together the tragedy is understandable."

The Duchess' thinking ended pityingly because just at this time it was
that Robin opened the door and stood looking at her.

It seemed as though Dr. Redcliff must have talked to her for a long
time. But she had on her small hat and coat and what the Duchess seemed
chiefly to see was the wide darkness of her eyes set in a face suddenly
pinched, small and snow white. She looked like a starved baby.

"Please," she said with her hands clasped against her chest,
"please--may I go to Mersham Wood?"

"To--Mersham Wood," the Duchess felt aghast--and then suddenly a flood
of thought rushed upon her.

"It is not very far," the little gasping voice uttered. "I must go,
please! Oh! I must! Just--to Mersham Wood!"

Something almost uncontrollable rose in the Duchess' throat.

"Child," she said. "Come here!"

Robin went to her--oh, poor little soul!--in utter obedience. As she
drew close to her she went down upon her knees holding up her hands like
a little nun at prayer.

"_Please_ let me go," she said again. "Only to Mersham Wood."

"Stay here, my poor child and talk to me," the Duchess said. "The time
has come when you must talk to some one."

"When I come back--I will try. I--I want to ask--the Wood," said Robin.
She caught at a fold of the Duchess' dress and went on rapidly.

"It is not far. Dr. Redcliff said I might go. Mrs. Bennett is there. She
loves me."

"Are you going to talk to Mrs. Bennett?"

"No! No! No! No! Not to any one in the world."

Hapless young creatures in her plight must always be touching, but her
touchingness was indescribable--almost unendurable to the ripe aged
woman of the world who watched and heard her. It was as if she knew
nothing of the meaning of things--as if some little spirit had been torn
from heaven and flung down upon the dark earth. One felt that one must
weep aloud over the exquisite incomprehensible remoteness of her. And it
was so awfully plain that there was some tragic connection with the Wood
and that her whole soul cried out to it. And she would not speak to any
one in the world. Such things had been known. Was the child's brain
wavering? Why not? All the world was mad was the older woman's thought,
and she herself after all the years, had