other people, always and under all circumstances,'
she had said to him when her trouble was fresh upon her, and he knew
that she was only acting up to her words.

She would play because other people wished to play, not because her
heart was in it. During his brief visits to Woodcote they were always
together, and more than once he told himself that he could see a great
change in her. She had at times a tired, burdened look, as though weary
thoughts were habitual to her. But she never spoke to him of Cyril, or
questioned him in any way. He would tell her unasked about Mollie, and
now and then he would drop a word casually about Cyril.

'I met Blake the other day,' he would say. 'I think he looks better,
though he says the hot weather tries him; he is getting on with his
work, and appears to like it.' Or another time: 'I dined with Unwin last
week; he and Blake seem to hit it off famously. Unwin says he has far
more discrimination and intelligence than other young men of his age,
and that for steadiness and application he might be fifty. But he thinks
he ought to take more exercise; his hard work and the heat together are
making him thin.'

Audrey remembered this speech of Michael's, as, a month later on, she
sat on the Whitby sands. She had yielded to Geraldine's persuasion to
accompany them to the seaside. Dr. Ross and his wife were paying visits
in Cumberland, Michael was in North Wales with an artist friend, and
Audrey had accepted her sister's invitation very willingly.

Both Percival and Geraldine were very kind to her, she thought. They let
her wander about alone and do as she liked, and they were always ready
to plan something for her enjoyment--a drive or a sail, or a day on the
moors. Audrey liked being with them, and baby Leonard was more
fascinating than ever; yet it may be doubted if she would not have been
happier at Rutherford. The absence of all duties, of any settled
employment, tried her. A holiday, to be thoroughly enjoyed, must be
attended with a disengaged mind, and with a certain freedom from worry;
and this was not possible with Audrey. She would talk to her sister
cheerfully, or play with Leonard, and she was an intelligent companion
for Mr. Harcourt when they took long walks together; but in her moments
of solitude, when she roamed alone over the yellow sands with the fresh
salt wind blowing in her face, her thoughts would be sad enough as she
thought of Cyril in his hot London lodgings.

'O