her in his shifting eyes, his slack lip, and his weak frown. Her first
glance at him would be loyal and frank, just an eager flash of love
and confidence, seeming to say, "Be quick, Will, and put your foot on
this viper that we've both of us warmed, and that is trying to bite
me;" then she would turn pale, avert her head, and drop upon a chair.
And for why? Because she had seen the nauseating truth, and her heart
was almost broken.

Then he suddenly understood that there was no real danger of all this.
It was only his own sense of guilt that unnerved him. Nothing had
happened in the wood. If he behaved quietly and sensibly, he would be
altogether safe, and Mavis would never guess. Truly all that he had to
conceal was that he had been stopped on the very brink of his sin,
that but for a startling interference, an almost miraculous
interference, the wicked thoughts would infallibly have found their
outlet in wicked deeds.

If Norah said he took her on his knees and kissed her, Mavis would
think nothing of it--would not even think it undignified; would merely
take as one more evidence of his kindly nature the fact that, instead
of upbraiding the silly child, he had embraced her. If the girl howled
and said she did not want to go because she was fond of him, Mavis
would think nothing of that either. Mavis knew it already, and had
never thought anything of it.

Therefore if he did not betray himself, the girl could not betray him.
All that was required of him was just to maintain an ordinary air of
ingenuousness. He had done enough acting in his life to be at home
when dissimulating. He must do a little more successful acting now.

After a minute or so he went down-stairs, and was outwardly staid and
calm, looking as he had looked on hundreds of mornings: the good kind
father of a household, whose only care is the happiness and welfare of
those who are dependent on him.

Directly he entered the breakfast-room Norah ran sobbing to him and
clung to his hand.

"She is sending me away. Oh, don't let her do it. You promised you
wouldn't. Oh, why do you let her do it?"

"This is _my_ plan, Norah," he said gently; "not Mrs. Dale's. I wish
it--and I ask you not to make a fuss."

"I've told her," said Mavis, "that it's only for her own good; and
that she'll be back here in a fortnight or three weeks. But she seems
to think we want to be rid of her forever."

"No, no," said Dale. "Nothing of the sort. It's merely for the