s previously, had asked that she should be
permitted to spend it at Hanaford, and that it should be chosen as the
date for the opening of the first model cottages at Hopewood.

It was Justine who had originated the idea of associating Cicely's
anniversaries with some significant moment in the annals of the mill
colony; and struck by the happy suggestion, he had at once applied
himself to hastening on the work at Hopewood. The eagerness of both
Amherst and Justine that Cicely should be identified with the developing
life of Westmore had been one of the chief influences in reconciling Mr.
Langhope to his son-in-law's second marriage. Husband and wife had
always made it clear that they regarded themselves as the mere trustees
of the Westmore revenues, and that Cicely's name should, as early as
possible, be associated with every measure taken for the welfare of the
people. But now, as Justine knew, the situation was changed; and Cicely
would not be allowed to come to Hanaford until she herself had left it.
The manifold threads of divination that she was perpetually throwing out
in Amherst's presence told her, without word or sign on his part, that
he also awaited Cicely's birthday as a determining date in their lives.
He spoke confidently, and as a matter of course, of Mr. Langhope's
bringing his grand-daughter at the promised time; but Justine could hear
a note of challenge in his voice, as though he felt that Mr. Langhope's
sincerity had not yet been put to the test.

As the time drew nearer it became more difficult for her to decide just
how she should take the step she had determined on. She had no material
anxiety for the future, for although she did not mean to accept a penny
from her husband after she had left him, she knew it would be easy for
her to take up her nursing again; and she knew also that her hospital
connections would enable her to find work in a part of the country far
enough distant to remove her entirely from his life. But she had not yet
been able to invent a reason for leaving that should be convincing
enough to satisfy him, without directing his suspicions to the truth. As
she revolved the question she suddenly recalled an exclamation of
Amherst's--a word spoken as they entered Mr. Langhope's door, on the
fatal afternoon when she had found Wyant's letter awaiting her.

"There's nothing you can't make people believe, you little Jesuit!"

She had laughed in pure joy at his praise of her; for every