dged by himself--was in this instance
small consolation. She saw clearly enough that the apprehensions
expressed by Mr. Orcutt, whom he had since denounced as an idiotic old
woman, had made an impression, aroused in him the ever-abiding concern
for the mill which was his life's passion and which had been but
temporarily displaced by his infatuation with her. That other passion was
paramount. What was she beside it? Would he hesitate for a moment to
sacrifice her if it came to a choice between them? The tempestuousness of
these thoughts, when they took possession of her, hinting as they did of
possibilities in her nature hitherto unguessed and unrevealed, astonished
and frightened her; she sought to thrust them away, to reassure herself
that his concern for the successful delivery of the Bradlaugh order was
natural. During the morning, in the intervals between interviews with the
superintendents, he was self-absorbed, and she found herself
inconsistently resenting the absence of those expressions of
endearment--the glances and stolen caresses--for indulgence in which she
had hitherto rebuked him: and though pride came to her rescue, fuel was
added to her feeling by the fact that he did not seem to notice her
coolness. Since he failed to appear after lunch, she knew he must be
investigating the suspicions Orcutt had voiced; but at six o'clock, when
he had not returned, she closed up her desk and left the office. An odour
of cheap perfume pervading the corridor made her aware of the presence of
Miss Lottie Myers.

"Oh, it's you!" said that young woman, looking up from the landing of the
stairs. "I might have known it you never make a get-away until after six,
do you?"

"Oh, sometimes," said Janet.

"I stayed as a special favour to-night," Miss Myers declared. "But I'm
not so stuck on my job that I can't tear myself away from it."

"I don't suppose you are," said Janet.

For a moment Miss Myers looked as if she was about to be still more
impudent, but her eye met Janet's, and wavered. They crossed the bridge
in silence. "Well, ta-ta," she said. "If you like it, it's up to you.
Five o'clock for mine,"--and walked away, up the canal, swinging her hips
defiantly. And Janet, gazing after her, grew hot with indignation and
apprehension. Her relations with Ditmar were suspected, after all, made
the subject of the kind of comment indulged in, sotto voce, by Lottie
Myers and her friends at the luncheon hour. She felt a mad, pr