ve hurried
directions to the servant to tell Tom Kettering to be in readiness to
drive her at once to Chorlton, and made short work of breakfast and her
_adieux_ to the assembled company.

* * * * *

If events would only pay attention to the convenience of storytellers,
they would never happen at the same time. It would make consecutive
narrative much more practicable. It would have been better--some may
say--for this story to follow Granny Marrable to Strides Cottage, and to
leave Gwen to come to Dr. Nash's summons next day. It might then have
harked back to the foregoing chat between her and her mother, or omitted
it altogether. Its author prefers the course it has taken.

CHAPTER XIX

WHAT DID GRANNY MARRABLE THINK ON THE ROAD? HER ARRIVAL, AND HOW
KEZIAH TOLD JOHN COSTRELL, WHO WHISTLED. THE MEETING, WHICH NONE
SAW. HOW COULD THIS BE MAISIE? GRANNY MARRABLE'S SHAKEN FAITH,
RUTH'S MIXED FILIALITIES. HOW OLD MAISIE AWOKE AND FELT CHILLY. HOW
SHE SLEPT TEN SECONDS MORE AND DREAMED FOR HOURS. HOW OLD PHOEBE
HAD DRAWN A VERY SMALL TOOTH OF MAISIE'S, OVER SIXTY YEARS AGO

Keziah Solmes was literal, not imaginative. She was able to describe any
outward seeming of old Phoebe, or of Ruth. But what could she know, or
guess, of the stunned bewilderment of their minds? When asked by Gwen
what each of the old twins had said at sight of the other--for she had
been present, if not at their meeting, a few moments later--she seemed
at a loss for a report of definite speech. But, oh yes!--in reply to a
suggestion from Gwen--they had called each other by name, that for sure
they did! "But 'twas a wonderment to me, my lady, that neither one
should cry out loud, for the sorrow of all that long time ago." So said
old Keziah, sounding a true note in this reference to the sadness
inherent in mere lapse of years. Gwen could and did endorse Keziah, on
that score; but there was no wonderment in _her_ mind at their silence.
Rather, she was at a loss to conceive or invent a single phrase that
either could or would have spoken.

Least of all could independent thought imagine the anticipations of old
Phoebe during that strange ride through the falling twilight of the
short winter's day. Did she articulate to herself that each minute on
the road was bringing her nearer to a strange mystery that was in
truth--that _must_ be--the very selfsame sister that her eyes last saw
n