instantly assumed the proportions of a fact,
and seemed to furnish another justification for her wretchedness. Bessy
was not naturally jealous, but her imagination was thrall to the spoken
word, and it gave her a sudden incomprehensible relief to associate
Justine with the obscure causes of her suffering.

"I know she's cleverer than I am, and more amusing, and can tell you
about plants and animals and things...and I daresay she tells you how
tiresome and stupid I am...."

She sprang up suddenly, abashed by Cicely's astonished gaze, and by the
governess's tremulous attempt to continue to treat the scene as one of
"Mamma's" most successful pleasantries.

"Don't mind me--my head aches horribly. I think I'll rush off for a
gallop on Impulse before dinner. Miss Dill, Cicely's nails are a
sight--I suppose that comes of grubbing up wild-flowers."

And with this parting shot at Justine's pursuits she swept out of the
school-room, leaving pupil and teacher plunged in a stricken silence
from which Cicely at length emerged to say, with the candour that Miss
Dill dreaded more than any punishable offense: "Mother's prettiest--but
I do like Justine the best."

* * * * *

It was nearly dark when Bessy mounted the horse which had been hastily
saddled in response to her order; but it was her habit to ride out alone
at all hours, and of late nothing but a hard gallop had availed to quiet
her nerves. Her craving for occupation had increased as her life became
more dispersed and agitated, and the need to fill every hour drove her
to excesses of bodily exertion, since other forms of activity were
unknown to her.

As she cantered along under the twilight sky, with a strong sea-breeze
in her face, the rush of air and the effort of steadying her nervous
thoroughbred filled her with a glow of bodily energy from which her
thoughts emerged somewhat cleansed of their bitterness.

She had been odious to poor little Cicely, for whom she now felt a
sudden remorseful yearning which almost made her turn her horse's head
homeward, that she might dash upstairs and do penance beside the child's
bed. And that she should have accused Justine of taking Cicely from her!
It frightened her to find herself thinking evil of Justine. Bessy, whose
perceptions were keen enough in certain directions, knew that her second
marriage had changed her relation to all her former circle of friends.
Though they still rallied about her