The Hermit of Far End .......................................................................................................................................1

Margaret Pedler ........................................................................................................................................1

PROLOGUE ...........................................................................................................................................2

CHAPTER I. A MORNING ADVENTURE .........................................................................................6

CHAPTER II. THE PASSING OF PATRICK LOVELL ...................................................................13

CHAPTER III. A SHEAF OF MEMORIES .......................................................................................17

CHAPTER IV. ELISABETHAND HER SON ...............................................................................23

CHAPTER V. THE MAN IN THE TRAIN ........................................................................................33

CHAPTER VI. THE SKELETON IN SELWYN'S CUPBOARD ......................................................39

CHAPTER VII. TRESPASS ...............................................................................................................45

CHAPTER VIII. THE UNWILLING HOST ......................................................................................49

CHAPTER IX. THE HERMIT'S SHELL ............................................................................................55

CHAPTER X. A MEETING AT ROSE COTTAGE ..........................................................................62

CHAPTER XI. TWO ON AN ISLAND ..............................................................................................69

CHAPTER XII. A REVOKE ...............................................................................................................79

CHAPTER XIII. DISILLUSION .........................................................................................................82

CHAPTER XIV. ELISABETH INTERVENES ..................................................................................85

CHAPTER XV. THE NAME OF DURWARD ..................................................................................90

CHAPTER XVI. THE FLIGHT ..........................................................................................................96

CHAPTER XVII. THEY WHO PURSUED .....................................................................................102

CHAPTER XVIII. THE REVELATION OF THE NIGHT ..............................................................106

CHAPTER XIX. THE JOURNEY'S END ........................................................................................107

CHAPTER XX. THE SECOND BEST .............................................................................................112

CHAPTER XXI. THE PITILESS ALTAR .......................................................................................113

CHAPTER XXII. LOVE'S SACRAMENT .......................................................................................116

CHAPTER XXIII. A SUMMER IDYLL ..........................................................................................122

CHAPTER XXIV. PATCHES OF BLUE .........................................................................................125

CHAPTER XXV. THE CUT DIRECT .............................................................................................128

CHAPTER XXVI. A MIDNIGHT VISITOR ...................................................................................132

CHAPTER XXVII. J'ACCUSE! ........................................................................................................139

CHAPTER XXVIII. RED RUIN .......................................................................................................143

CHAPTER XXIX. DIVERS OPINIONS ..........................................................................................147

CHAPTER XXX. DEFEAT ..............................................................................................................154

CHAPTER XXXI. THE FURNACE .................................................................................................162

CHAPTER XXXII. ON CRABTREE MOOR ..................................................................................165

CHAPTER XXXIII. OVER THE MOUNTAINS .............................................................................172

CHAPTER XXXIV. THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE .............................................................................177

CHAPTER XXXV. OUT OF THE NIGHT ......................................................................................183

CHAPTER XXXVI. "FROM SUDDEN DEATH" ..................................................................186

CHAPTER XXXVII. THE RECKONING ........................................................................................190

CHAPTER XXXVIII. VINDICATION ............................................................................................192

CHAPTER XXXIX. HARVEST .......................................................................................................196

It was very quiet within the little room perched high up under the roof of Wallater's Buildings. Even the

glowing logs in the grate burned tranquilly, without any of those brisk cracklings and sputterings which make

such cheerful company of a fire, while the distant roar of London's traffic came murmuringly, dulled to a

gentle monotone by the honeycomb of narrow side streets that intervened between the gaunt, redbrick

It seemed almost as though the little room were waiting for something some one, just as the woman seated

She sat very still, looking towards the door, her folded hands lying quietly on her knees in an attitude of

patient expectancy. It was as if, although she found the waiting long and wearisome, she were yet quite sure

Once she bent forward and touched the little finger of her left hand, which bore, at its base, a slight circular

depression such as comes from the constant wearing of a ring. She rubbed it softly with the forefinger of the

"He will come," she muttered. "He promised he would come if ever I sent the little pearl ring."

Then she leaned back once more, resuming her former attitude of patient waiting, and the insistent silence,

Presently the long rays of the westering sun crept round the edge of some projecting eaves and, slanting in

Even in their clear, revealing light it would have been difficult to decide the woman's age, so worn and lined

was the masklike face outlined against the shabby cushion. She looked forty, yet there was something still

girlish in the pose of her blackclad figure which seemed to suggest a shorter tale of years. Raven dark hair,

lustreless and dull, framed a pale, emaciated face from which illhealth had stripped almost all that had once

been beautiful. Only the immense dark eyes, feverishly bright beneath the sunken temples, and the still lovely

line from jaw to pointed chin, remained unmarred, their beauty mocked by the pinched nostrils and drawn

It might have been the face of a dead woman, so still, so waxen was it, were it not for the eager brilliance of

the eyes. In them, fixed watchfully upon the closed door, was concentrated the whole vitality of the failing

Beyond that door, flight upon flight of some steps dropped seemingly endlessly one below the other, leading

at last to a cementfloored vestibule, cheerless and uninviting, which opened on to the street.

Perhaps there was no particular reason why the vestibule should have been other than it was, seeing that

Wallater's Buildings had not been designed for the habitual loiterer. For such as he there remains always the

As far as the inhabitants of "Wallater's" were concerned, they clattered over the cement flooring of the

vestibule in the mornings, on their way to work, without pausing to cast an eye of criticism upon its general

aspect of uncomeliness, and dragged tired feet across it in an evening with no other thought but that of how

many weary steps there were to climb before the room which served as "home" should be attained.

But to the welldressed, middleaged man who now paused, half in doubt, on the threshold of the Buildings,

the sordidlooking vestibule, with its bare floor and drabcoloured walls, presented an epitome of desolation.

His keen blue eyes, in one of which was stuck a monocle attached to a broad black ribbon, rested appraisingly

upon the ascending spiral of the stone stairway that vanished into the gloomy upper reaches of the Building.

Against this chill background there suddenly took shape in his mind the picture of a spacious room, fragrant

with the scent of rosesa room full of mellow tints of brown and gold, athwart which the afternoon sunlight

lingered tenderly, picking out here the limpid blue of a bit of old Chinese "blueandwhite," there the warm

gleam of polished copper, or here again the bizarre, gemencrusted image of an Eastern god. All that was

rare and beautiful had gone to the making of the room, and rarer and more beautiful than all, in the eyes of

the man whose memory now recalled it, had been the woman to whom it had belonged, whose loveliness had

With a mental jolt his thoughts came back to the present, to the bare, commonplace ugliness of Wallater's

Then with swift steps he began the ascent of the stone steps, gradually slackening in pace until, when he

reached the summit and stood facing that door behind which a woman watched and waited, he had perforce to

pause to regain his breath, whilst certain twinges in his right knee reminded him that he was no longer as

In answer to his knock a low voice bade him enter, and a minute later he was standing in the quiet little room,

his eyes gazing levelly into the feverish dark ones of the woman who had risen at his entrance.

"So!" she said, while an odd smile twisted her bloodless lips. "You have come, after all. SometimesI began

"I have been away, he replied simply. "And my mail was not forwarded. I came directly I received the

"Well, sit down and let us talk"impatiently. "it doesn't matter nothing matters since you have come in

"In time? What do you mean? In time for what? Pauline, tell me" advancing a step"tell me, in God's

Name, what are you doing in this place?" He glanced significantly round the shabby room with its threadbare

"Yes. Why not? Soon"indifferently"I shall be dying here. It is, at least, as good a place to die in as any

"Dying?" The man's pleasant baritone voice suddenly shook. "Dying? Oh, no, no! You've been illI can see

"Don't deceive yourself, my friend," she interrupted him remorselessly. "See, come to the window. Now look

She had drawn him towards the window, till they were standing together in the full blaze of the setting sun.

Then she turned and faced hima gaunt wreck of splendid womanhood, her fingers working nervously,

whilst her too brilliant eyes, burning in their grey, sunken, sockets, searched his face curiously.

"You've worn better than I have," she observed at last, breaking the silence with a short laugh. "you must

Suddenly he reached out and gathered her thin, restless hands into his, holding them in a kind, firm clasp.

"Yes," she answered steadily. "There is. And it's to ask you if you will do it that I sent for you. Do you

suppose"she swallowed, battling with the tremor in her voice"that I wanted you to see me as I am

now? It was monthsmonths before I could bring myself to send you the little pearl ring."

"No, no, I suppose not." She looked away. "What a mess I made of things, didn't I? However, it's all past

now; the game's nearly over, thank Heaven! Life, since that day"the eyes of the man and woman met again

"The child?" A curious expression came into his eyes, resentful, yet tinged at the same time with an oddly

"He never tried to"grimly. "Afterwardswell, it was downhill all the way. I didn't know how to work, and

by that time I had learned my health was going. Since then, I've lived on the proceeds of the pawnshopI

had my jewels, you knowand on the odd bits of money I could scrape together by taking in sewing."

"Oh, my God!" he cried. "Pauline, Pauline, it was cruel of you to keep me in ignorance! I could at least have

"I couldn't takeyour money," she said quietly. "I was too proud for that. But, dear friend"as she saw him

wince"I'm not proud any longer. I think Death very soon shows us how littlepridematters; it falls into

its right perspective when one is nearing the end of things. I'm so little proud now that I've sent for you to ask

"It's rather a big thing that I'm going to ask, I'm afraid. I want you," she spoke slowly, as though to focus his

"He is dead. I received the news of his death six months ago. There is no oneno one who has any claim

upon her. And no one upon whom she has any claim, poor little atom!"smiling rather bitterly. "Ah! Don't

deny me!"her thin, eager hands clung to his"don't deny mesay that you'll take her!"

"Deny you? But, of course I shan't deny you. I'm only thankful that you have turned to me at lastthat you

"Forgotten?" Her voice vibrated. "Believe me or not, as you will, there has never been a day for nine long

years when I have not rememberednever a night when I have not prayed God to bless you" She broke

Very quietly, very tenderly, he drew her into his arms. There was no passion in the caressfor was it not

eventide, and the lengthening shadows of night already fallen across her path?but there was infinite love,

The twilight had gathered about them during that quiet hour of reunion, wherein old hurts had been healed,

old sins forgiven, and now at last they had come back together out of the past to the recognition of all that yet

There came a sound of running footsteps on the stairs outsidelight, eager steps, buoyant with youth, that

"Hark!" The woman paused, her head a little turned to listen. "Here she comes. No one else on this

floor"with a whimsical smile"could take the last flight of those awful stairs at a run."

The door flew open, and the man received an impressionist picture of which the salient features were a mop

Then the door closed with a bang, and the blur of black and scarlet resolved itself into a thin, eagerfaced

"Come here, kiddy," the woman held out her hand. "This"and her eyes sought those of the man as though

The child advanced and shook hands politely, then stood still, staring at this unexpectedly acquired relative.

Her sharppointed face was so thin and small that her eyes, beneath their straight, dark brows, seemed to be

enormousblack, sombre eyes, having no kinship with the intense, opaque brown so frequently miscalled

"Let us hope that the likeness is only skindeep, then!" she said bitterly. "I don't want her life to beas mine

"If," he said gently, "if you will trust her to me, Pauline, I swear to you that I will do all in my power to save

"Yes," he agreed simply. Then he turned to the child, who was standing a little distance away from him,

eyeing him distrustfully. "What do you say, child! You wouldn't be afraid to come and live with me, would

"I am never afraid of people," she answered promptly. "Except the man who comes for the rent; he is fat, and

red, and a beast. But I'd rather go on living with Mumsy, thank youUncle." The designation came after a

brief hesitation. "You see," she added politely, as though fearful that she might have hurt his feelings, "we've

always lived together." She flung a glance of almost passionate adoration at her mother, who turned towards

"You see how it is with her?" she said. "She lives by her affections conversely from her mother, her heart

"My dear," he said, taking her hand in his and speaking with the quiet solemnity of a man who vows himself

before some holy altar, "I shall never forget that she is your childthe child of the woman I love."

The dewy softness of early morning still hung about the woods, veiling their autumn tints in broken, drifting

swathes of pearly mist, while towards the east, where the rising sun pushed long, dim fingers of light into the

Little, delicate twitterings vibrated on the airthe sleepy chirrup of awakening birds, the rustle of a fallen

leaf beneath the pad of some belated cat stealing back to the domestic hearth, the stir of a rabbit in its burrow.

Presently these sank into insignificance beside a more definite sound the crackle of dry leaves and the

snapping of twigs beneath a heavier footfall than that of any marauding Tom, and through a clearing in the

woods slouched the figure of a man, gun on shoulder, the secret of his bulging sidepockets betrayed by the

He was not an attractive specimen of mankind. Beneath the peaked cap, crammed well down on to his head,

gleamed a pair of surly, watchful eyes, and, beneath these again, the unshaven, brutal, outthrust jaw offered

Nor did his appearance in any way belie his reputation, which was unsavory in the extreme. Indeed, if report

spoke truly, "Black Brady," as he was commonly called, had on one occasion only escaped the gallows

thanks to the evidence of a village girlone who had loved him recklessly, to her own undoing. Every one

had believed her evidence to be false, but, as she had stuck to what she said through thick and thin, and as no

amount of crossexamination had been able to shake her, Brady had contrived to slip through the hands of

Conceiving, however, that, after this episode, the air of his native place might prove somewhat insalubrious

for a time, he had migrated thence to Fallowdene, establishing himself in a cottage on the outskirts of the

village and finding the major portion of his sustenance by skillfully poaching the preserves of the principal

On this particular morning he was well content with his night's work. He had raided the covers of one Patrick

Lovell, the owner of Barrow Court, who, although himself a confirmed invalid and debarred from all manner

of sport, employed two or three objectionably lynxeyed keepers to safeguard his preserves for the benefit of

No covers were better stocked than those of Barrow Court, but Brady rarely risked replenishing his larder

from them, owing to the extreme wideawakeness of the head gamekeeper. It was therefore not without a

warm glow of satisfaction about the region of his heart that he made his way homeward through the early

morning, reflecting on the ease with which last night's marauding expedition had been conducted. He even

pursed his lips together and whistled softlya low, flutelike sound that might almost have been mistaken

But it is unwise to whistle before you are out of the wood, and Brady's triumph was shortlived. Swift as a

shadow, a lithe figure darted out from among the trees and planted itself directly in his path.

With equal swiftness, Brady brought his gunstock to his shoulder. Then he hesitated, finger on trigger, for the

lion in his path was no burly gamekeeper, as, for the first moment, he had supposed. It was a woman who

faced hima mere girl of twenty, whose slender figure looked somehow boyish in its knitted sports coat and

very short, workmanlike skirt. The suggestion of boyishness was emphasized by her attitude, as she stood

squarely planted in front of Black Brady, her hands thrust deep into her pockets, her straight young back very

flat, and her head a little tilted, so that her eyes might search the surly face beneath the peaked cap.

They were arresting eyesamazingly dark, "like two patches o' the sky be night," as Brady described them

long afterwards to a crony of his, and they gazed up at the astonished poacher from a small, sharply angled

"Put that gun down!" commanded an imperious young voice, a voice that held something indescribably sweet

Brady, recovering from his first surprise, lowered his gun, but answered truculently

"I don't need to ask. Empty out your pockets and take yourself off. Do you hear?" she added sharply, as the

"I shan't do nothin' o' the sort," he growled. "You go your ways and leave me to go mineor it'll be the

"I'm not in the least afraid of that gun," she said tranquilly. "But you are afraid to use it," she added.

"Am I?" He wheeled suddenly, and, on the instant, a deafening report shattered the quiet of the woods. Then

the smoke drifted slowly aside, revealing the man and the girl face to face once more.

But although she still stood her ground, dark shadows had suddenly painted themselves beneath her eyes, and

the slight young breast beneath the jaunty sports coat rose and fell unevenly. Within the shelter of her

"That was a waste of a good cartridge," she observed quietly. "You only fired in the air."

"If I'd liked, I could 'ave killed 'ee as easy as knockin' a bird off a bough," he said sullenly.

"You could," she agreed. "And then I should have been dead and you would have been waiting for a hanging.

"You be a cool 'and, and no mistake," he acknowledged. "I thought to frighten you off by firin'."

"Well, as you haven't, suppose you allow that I've won and that it's up to me to dictate terms. If my uncle

"I'm not comin' up to the housedon't you think it, win or no win," broke in Brady hastily.

"I don't think we particularly want you up at the house," she remarked. "If you'll do as I sayempty your

The man reluctantly made as though to obey, but even while he hesitated, he saw the girl's eyes suddenly

look past him, over his shoulder, and, turning suspiciously, he swung straight into the brawny grip of the head

keeper, who, hearing a shot fired, had deserted his breakfast and hurried in the direction of the sound and now

"Caught this time, Brady, my man," chuckled the keeper triumphantly. "It's gaol for you this journey, as

sure's my name's Clegg. Has the fellow been annoying you, Miss Sara?" he added, touching his hat

respectfully as he turned towards the girl, whilst with his other hand he still retained his grip of Brady's arm.

"Nothing to speak of, Clegg," she replied. "And I'm afraid you mustn't send him to prison this time. I told him

if he would empty his pockets he might go. That still holds good," she added, looking towards Brady, who

flashed her a quick look of gratitude from beneath his heavy brows and proceeded to turn out the contents of

The man obeyed with obvious reluctance. Then, when Brady had hastened to make himself scarce, he turned

"No, thanks, Clegg," she said. "I'mI'm quite all right. You can go back to your breakfast."

The girl stood still, looking after him. She was rather white, but she remained very erect and taut until the

keeper had disappeared from view. Then the tense rigidity of her figure slackened, as a stretched wire

slackens when the pull on it suddenly ceases, and she leaned helpless against the trunk of a tree, limp and

shaking, every fine strung nerve ajar with the strain of her recent encounter with Black Brady. As she felt

her knees giving way weakly beneath her, a dogged little smile twisted her lips.

"You are a cool 'and, and no mistake," she whispered shakily, an ironical gleam flickering in her eyes.

She propped herself up against the friendly tree, and, after a few minutes, the quick throbbing of her heard

steadied down and the colour began to steal back into her lips. At length she stooped, and, picking up her hat,

which had fallen off and lay on the ground at her feet, she proceeded to make her way through the woods in

Barrow Court, as the name implied, was situated on the brow of a hill, sheltered from the north and easterly

winds by a thick belt of pines which halfencircled it, for ever murmuring and whispering together as

To Sara Tennant, the soft, sibilant noise was a beloved and familiar sound. From the first moment when, as a

child, she had come to live at Barrow, the insistent murmur of the pines had held an extraordinary fascination

for her. That, and their pungent scent, seemed to be interwoven with her whole life there, like the thread of

She had been desperately miserable and lonely at the time of her advent at the Court; and all through the long,

wakeful vigil of her first night, it had seemed to her vivid, childish imagination as though the big, swaying

trees, bleakly etched against the moonlit sky, had understood her desolation and had whispered and crooned

consolingly outside her window. Since then, she had learned that the voice of the pines, like the voice of the

sea, is always pitched in a key that responds to the mood of the listener. If you chance to be glad, then the

pines will whisper of sunshine and summer, little love idylls that one tree tells to another, but if your heart is

As Sara emerged from the shelter of the woods, her eyes instinctively sought the great belt of trees that

crowned the opposite hill, with the grey bulk of the house standing out in sharp relief against their eternal

green. A little smile of pure pleasure flitted across her face; to her there was something lovable and rather

charming about the very architectural inconsistencies which prevented Barrow Court from being, in any sense

The central portion of the house, was comparatively modern, built of stone in solid Georgian fashion, but

quaintly flanked at either end by a massive, mediaeval tower, survival of the good old days when the Lovells

of Fallowdene had held their own against all comers, not even excepting, in the case of one Roderic, his liege

lord and master the King, the latter having conceived a not entirely unprovoked desire to deprive him of his

lands and libertya desire destined, however, to be frustrated by the solid masonry of Barrow.

A flagged terrace ran the whole length of the long, twostoried house, broadening out into wide wings at the

base of either tower, and, below the terrace, green, shaven lawns, dotted with old yew, sloped down to the

edge of a natural lake which lay in the hollow of the valley, gleaming like a sheet of silver in the morning

Prim walks, bordered by high box hedges, intersected the carefully tended gardens, and along one of these

Sara took her way, quickening her steps to a run as the booming summons of a gong suddenly reverberated

She reached the house, flushed and a little breathless, and, tossing aside her hat as she sped through the big,

oakbeamed hall, hurried into a pleasant, sunshiny room, where a couple of menservants were moving

An invalid's wheeled chair stood close to the open window, and in it, with a rug tucked about his knees, was

seated an elderly man of some sixtytwo or three years of age. He was leaning forward, giving animated

instructions to a gardener who listened attentively from the terrace outside, and his alert, eager, manner

contrasted oddly with the helplessness of limb indicated by the necessity for the wheeled chair.

"That's all, Digby," he said briskly. "I'll go through the hothouses myself some time today."

As he spoke, he signed to one of the footmen in the room to close the window, and then propelled his chair

The instant and careful attention accorded to his commands by both gardener and servant was characteristic

of every one in Patrick Lovell's employment. Although he had been a more or less helpless invalid for seven

years, he had never lost his grip of things. He was exactly as much master of Barrow Court, the dominant

factor there, as he had been in the good times that were gone, when no day's shooting had been too long for

He sat very erect in his wheeled chair, a handsome, wellgroomed old aristocrat. Cleanshaven, except for a

short, carefully trimmed moustache, grizzled like his hair, his skin exhibited the waxen pallor which so often

accompanies chronic illhealth, and his face was furrowed by deep lines, making him look older than his

sixtyodd years. His vivid blue eyes were extraordinarily keen and penetrating; possibly they, and the

determined, squarish jaw, were answerable for that unquestioning obedience which was invariably accorded

"Goodmorning, uncle mine!" Sara bent to kiss him as the door closed quietly behind the retreating servants.

Patrick Lovell screwed his monocle into his eye and regarded her dispassionately.

She laughed, putting up a careless hand to brush back the heavy tress of dark hair that had fallen forward over

"I've had an adventure," she answered, and proceeded to recount her experience with Black Brady. When she

reached the point where the man had fired off his gun, Patrick interrupted explosively.

"The infernal scoundrel! That fellow will dangle at the end of a rope one of these daysand deserve it, too.

"He did," she averred gravely. Then, as Patrick's bushy eyebrows came together in a bristling frown, she

"All the same, I really was frightened," she persisted. "It gave me quite a nasty turn, as the servants say. I

"No, my niece"with some amusement. "On the contrary, I should define the highest type of courage as

selfcontrol in the presence of danger not necessarily absence of fear. The latter is really no more credit to

"Mine, then, I perceive to be the highest type of courage," chuckled Sara. "It's a comforting reflection."

It was, when propounded by Patrick Lovell, to whom physical fear was an unknown quantity. Had he lived in

the days of the Terror, he would assuredly have taken his way to the guillotine with the same gay, debonair

courage which enabled the nobles of France to throw down their cards and go to the scaffold with a smiling

promise to the other players that they would continue their interrupted game in the next world.

And when Sara had come to live with Patrick, a dozen years ago, he had rigorously inculcated in her youthful

It had not been all plain sailing, for Sara was a highly strung child, with the vivid imagination that is the

primary cause of so much that is carelessly designated cowardice. But Patrick had been very wise in his

methods. He had never rebuked her for lack of courage; he had simply taken it for granted that she would

Sara's thoughts slid back to an incident which had occurred during their early days together. She had been

very much alarmed by the appearance of a huge mastiff who was permitted the run of the house, and her

uncle, noticing her shrinking avoidance of the rather formidable looking beast, had composedly bidden her

take him to the stables and chain him up. For an instant the child had hesitated. Then, something in the man's

quiet confidence that she would obey had made its claim on her childish pride, and, although white to the

lips, she had walked straight up to the great creature, hooked her small fingers into his collar, and marched

Courage under physical pain she had learned from seeing Patrick contend with his own infirmity. He suffered

intensely at times, but neither groan nor word of complaint was ever allowed to escape his set lips. Only Sara

would see, after what he described as "one of my damn bad days, m'dear," new lines added to the deepening

At these times she herself endured agonies of reflex suffering and apprehension, since her attachment to

Patrick Lovell was the moving factor of her existence. Other girls had parents, brothers and sisters, and still

more distant relatives upon whom their capacity for loving might severally expend itself. Sara had none of

these, and the whole devotion of her intensely ardent nature lavished itself upon the man whom she called

Their mutual attitude was something more than the accepted relationship implied. They were friendsthese

twointimate friends, comrades on an equal footing, respecting each other's reserves and staunchly loyal to

one another. Perhaps this was accounted for in a measure by the very fact that they were united by no actual

bond of blood. That Sara was Patrick's niece by adoption was all the explanation of her presence at Barrow

Court that he had ever vouchsafed to the world in general, and it practically amounted to the sum total of

Hers had been a life of few relationships. She had no recollection of any one who had ever stood towards her

in the position of a father, and though she realized that the onetime existence of such a personage must be

The horizon of her earliest childhood had held but one figure, that of an adored mother, and "home" had been

represented by a couple of meager rooms at the top of a big warren of a place known as Wallater's Buildings,

Thus debarred by circumstances from the companionship of other children, Sara's whole affections had

centred round her mother, and she had never forgotten the sheer, desolating anguish of that moment when the

dreadful, unresponsive silence of the sheeted figure, lying in the shabby little bedroom they had shared

She had not cried, as most children of eight would have done, but she had suffered in a kind of frozen silence,

"Unfeelin', I call it!" declared the woman who lived on the same floor as the Tennants, and who had attended

at the doctor's behest, to a friend and neighbour who was occupied in boiling a kettle over a gas ring. "Must

be a cold'earted child as can see 'er own mother lyin' dead without so much as a tear." She sniffed. " 'Aven't

you got that cup o' tea ready yet? I can allus drink a cup o' tea after a layin' out."

Sara had watched the two women drinking their tea with brooding eyes, her small breast heaving with the

intensity of her resentment. Without being in any way able to define her emotions, she felt that there was

something horrible in their frank enjoyment of the steaming liquid, gulped down to the cheerful

accompaniment of a running stream of intimate gossip, while all the time that quiet figure lay on the narrow

bedmotionless, silent, wrapped in the strange and immense aloofness of the dead.

Presently one of the women poured out a third cup of tea and pushed it towards the child, slopping in the thin,

For a moment Sara stared at her speechlessly; then, with a sudden passionate gesture, she swept the cup on to

The clash of breaking china seemed to ring through the chamber of death, the women's voices rose shrilly in

reproof, and Sara, fleeing into the adjoining room, cast herself face downwards upon the floor,

horrorstricken. It was not the raucous anger of the women which she heeded; that passed her by. But she

had outraged some fine, instinctive sense by reverence that lay deep within her own small soul.

Still she did not cry. Only, as she lay on the ground with her face hidden, she kept repeating in a tense

It was then that Patrick Lovell had appeared, coming in response to she knew not what summons, and had

taken her away with him. And the tendrils of her affection, wrenched from their accustomed hold, had twined

themselves about this greyhaired, blueeyed man, set so apart by every soign� detail of his person from the

shabby, slipshod world which Sara had known, but who yet stood beside the bed on which her mother lay,

with a wrung mouth beneath his clipped moustache and a mist of tears dimming his keen eyes.

Autumn had given place to winter, and a bitter northeast wind was tearing through the pines, shrieking, as it

fled, like the cry of a lost soul. The eerie sound of it served in some indefinable way to emphasise the cosy

warmth and security of the room where Sara and her uncle were sitting, their chairs drawn close up to the log

Sara was engrossed in a book, her head bent low above its pages, unconscious of the keen blue eyes that had

With the passage of the last two months, Patrick's face seemed to have grown more waxen, worn a little finer,

and now, as he sat quietly watching the slender figure on the opposite side of the hearth, it wore a curious,

inscrutable expression, as though he were mentally balancing the pros and cons of some knotty point.

At last he apparently came to a decision, for he laid aside the newspaper he had been reading a few moments

"I'm going to," he replied. "It's something that must be said, and, as I've never been in favour of postponing a

"On the contrary." He hesitated a moment, then continued: "I had a longish talk with Dr. McPherson

yesterday, and the upshot of it is that I may be required to hand in my checks any day now. I wanted you to

It was characteristic of the understanding between these two that Patrick made no effort to "break the news,"

or soften it in any way. He had always been prepared to face facts himself, and he had trained Sara in the

So that now, when he quietly stated in plain language the thing which she had been inwardly dreading for

some weeksfor, though silent on the matter, she had not failed to observe his appearance of increasing

frailtyshe took it like a thoroughbred. Her eyes dilated a little, but her voice was quite steady as she said:

"I mean that before very long I shall put off this vile body." He glanced down whimsically at his useless legs,

cloaked beneath the inevitable rug. "After all," he continued, "lifeand deathare both fearfully interesting

if one only goes to meet them instead of running away from them. Then they become bogies."

"Aye." He nodded. "It's worse for those who are left behind. I've been one of them, and I know. I

remember" He broke off short, his blue eyes dreaming. Presently he gave his shoulders the characteristic

little shake which presaged the dismissal of some recalcitrant secret thought, and went on in quick, practical

"I don't want to go out leaving a lot of loose ends behind mea tangle for you to unravel. So, since the fiat

has gone forth McPherson's a sound man and knows his joblet's face it together, little old pal. It will

"Oh yes, you will"with shrewd wisdom. "It will be an extra drop in the bucket, you'll find, when the time

comes. Unfortunately, however, there's no getting round the entail, and when I go, my cousin, Major

"Why does the Court go to a Durward?" asked Sara listlessly. "Aren't there any Lovells to inherit?"

"He is a Lovell. His father and mine were brothers, but his godfather, old Timothy Durward left him his

property on condition that he adopted the name. Geoffrey Durward has a son called Timothyafter the old

"The Durwards have never been here since I came to live with you," observed Sara thoughtfully. "Don't you

"Geoffrey? Yes, he's a charming fellow, and he's been a rattling good soldiergot his D.S.O. in the South

African campaign. But he and his wifeshe was a Miss Edenwere stationed in India so many years, I

rather lost touch with them. They came home when the Durward property fell in to themabout seven or

eight years ago. She, I think" reminiscently"was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen."

"God bless my soul, no! I never wanted to marry Elisabeth Edenthough there were plenty of men who

did." He regarded Sara with an odd smile. "Some day, you'll knowwhy I never wanted to marry Elisabeth."

He was silent, fallen adreaming once again; and again he seemed to pull himself up short, forcing himself

"As I was saying, Sara, sooner or later you'll have to turn out of the old Court. It's entailed, and the income

with it. But I've a clear four hundred a year, altogether apart from the Barrow moneys, and that, at my death,

"I don't want to hear about it!" burst out Sara passionately. "It's hateful even talking of such things."

"Don't be a fool, my dear. I shan't die a day sooner for having made my willand I shall die a deal more

comfortably, knowing that you are provided for. I promised your mother that, as far as lay in my power, I

would shield you from wrecking your life as she wrecked hers. And moneya secure little income of her

ownis a very good sort of shield for a women. Four hundred's not enough to satisfy a mercenary

individual, but it's enough to enable a woman to marry for loveand not for a home!" He spoke with a kind

of repressed bitterness, as though memory had stirred into fresh flame the embers of some burnt out passion

But apparently Patrick did not sense the question that troubled on her lips, or, if he did, had no mind to

"There, that's enough about business for the present. I only wanted you to know that, whatever happens, you

Patrick smiled. He had not been a citizen of the world for over sixty years without acquiring the grim

knowledge that neither intense happiness nor deep grief suffice to deaden for very long the pinpricks of

material discomfort. But the worldlywise old man possessed a broad tolerance for the frailties of human

nature, and his smile held nothing of contempt, but only a whimsical humour touched with kindly

"I know you better than that, my dear," he answered quietly. "But I often think of what I once heard an old

workingwoman, down in the village, say. She had just lost her husband, and the rector's wife was handing

out the usual platitudes, and holding forth on the example of Christian fortitude exhibited by a very wealthy

lady in the neighbourhood, who had also been recently widowed. 'That's all very well, ma'am,' said my old

woman drily, 'but fat sorrow's a deal easier to bear than lean sorrow.' And though it may sound unromantic,

In the weeks that followed, Patrick seemed to recover a large measure of his accustomed vigour. He was

extraordinarily alert and cheerful so alive that Sara began to hope Dr. McPherson had been mistaken in his

opinion, and that there might yet remain many more good years of the happy comradeship that existed

Such buoyancy appeared incompatible with the imminence of death, and one day, driven by the very human

instinct to hear her optimism endorsed, she scoffed a little, tentatively, at the doctor's verdict.

"No, my dear, he's right," he said decisively. "But I'm not going to whine about it. Taken all round, I've found

life a very good sort of thingalthough"reflectively"I've missed the best it has to offer a man. And

And so Patrick Lovell went forward, his spirit erect, to meet death with the same cheerful, halfhumorous

It was a few days after this, on Christmas Eve, that Sara, coming into his special den with a gay little joke on

her lips and a great bunch of mistletoe in her arms, was arrested by the sudden, chill quiet of the little room.

The familiar wheeled chair was drawn up to the window, and she could see the back of Patrick's head with its

thick crop of grizzled hair, but he did not turn or speak at the sound of her entrance.

"Uncle, didn't you hear me? Are you asleep? . . . Uncle!" Her voice shrilled on to a sharp staccato note, then

There came no movement from the chair. The silence remained unbroken save for the ticking of a clock and

the loud beating of her own heart. The two seemed to merge into one gigantic pulse . . . deafening . . .

She swayed a little, clutching at the door for support. Then the throbbing ceased, and she was only conscious

of a solitude so intense that it seemed to press about her like a tangible thing.

Swiftly, on feet of terror, she crossed the room and stood looking down at the motionless figure of her uncle.

His face was turned towards the sun, and wore an expression of complete happiness and content, as though he

had just found something for which he had been searching. He had looked like that a thousand times, when,

seeking for her, he had come upon her, at last, hidden in some shady nook in the garden or swinging in her

hammock. She could almost hear the familiar "Oh, there you are, little pal!" with which he would joyously

She lifted the hand that was resting quietly on his knee. It lay in hers, flaccid and inert, its dreadful passivity

stinging her into realization of the truth. Patrick was dead. And, judging from his expression, he had found

For a little while Sara remained standing quietly beside the still figure in the chair. They would never be

alone together any morenot quite like this, Patrick sitting in his accustomed place, wearing his beloved old

tweeds, with an immaculate tie and with his single eyeglassabout which she had so often chaffed

Her mouth quivered. "Stand up to it!" . . . The voicePatrick's voice seemed to sound in her ear . . .

She bit back the sob that climbed to her throat, and stood silently facing the enemy, as it were.

This was the end, then, of one chapter of her existencethe chapter of sheltered, happy life at Barrow, and in

these quiet moments, alone for the last time with Patrick Lovell, Sara tried to gather strength and courage

from her memories of his cheery optimism to face gamely whatever might befall her in the big world into

It was over. The master of Barrow had been carried shoulderhigh to the great vault where countless Lovells

slept their last sleep, the blinds had been drawn up, letting in the wintry sunlight once again, and the

mourners had gone their ways. Only the new owner of the Court still lingered, and even he would be leaving

Sara, her slim, boyish build, with its long line of slender hip, accentuated by the clinging black of her gown,

moved listlessly across the hall to where Major Durward was standing smoking by the big open fire, waiting

He made as though to throw his cigarette away at her approach, but she gestured a hasty negative.

"No, don't," she said. "I like it. It seems to make things a little more natural. Uncle Pat"with a wan

Her sombre eyes were shadowed and sad, and there was a pinched, drawn look about her nostrils. Major

"Yes, I shall miss him,"simply. She returned his glance frankly. "You are very like him, you know," she

It was true. The big, soldierly man beside her, with his jolly blue eyes, grey hair, and shortclipped military

moustache, bore a striking resemblance to the Patrick Lovell of ten years ago, before illhealth had laid its

finger upon him, and during the difficult days that succeeded her uncle's death Sara had unconsciously found

a strange kind of comfort in the likeness. She had dreaded inexpressibly the advent of the future owner of

Barrow, but, when he had arrived, his resemblance to his dead cousin, and a certain similarity of gesture and

of voice, common enough in families, had at once established a sense of kinship, which had deepened with

her recognition of Durward's genuine kindheartedness and solicitude for her comfort.

He had immediately assumed control of affairs, taking all the inevitable detail of arrangement off her

shoulders, yet deferring to her as though she were still just as much mistress of the Court as she had been

before her uncle's death. In every way he had tried to ease and smooth matters for her, and she felt

"Then, if you think I'm like him," said Durward gently, "will you let me try to take his place a little? I mean,"

he explained hastily, fearing she might misunderstand him, "that you will miss his guardianship and care of

you, as well as the good pal you found in him. Will you let me try to fill in the gaps, ifif you should want

advice, or serviceanything over which a male man can be a bit useful? Oh" breaking off with a short,

"I think I know," said Sara, smiling faintly. "You mean that now that Uncle Pat has gone, you don't want me

The big man, hampered by his masculine shyness of a difficult situation, smiled back at her, relieved.

"Yes, that's it, that's it!" he agreed eagerly. "I want you to regard me as aa sort of sheetanchor upon which

"Thank you," said Sara. "I will. But I hope there won't be storms of such magnitude that I shall need to pull

"You can't imagine what a brute I feel for turning you out of the Court. I wish it need not be. But the Lovells

"Naturally." She interrupted him gently. "Naturally, she wishes to live here. I owe you no grudge for that,"

smiling. "Whenhow soon do you think of coming? I will make my arrangements accordingly."

"We should like to come as soon as possible, really," he admitted reluctantly. "I have the chance of leasing

Durward Park, if the tenant can have what practically amounts to immediate possession. And of course, in the

"Of course you would." Sara nodded understandingly. "If you could let me have a few days in which to find

"No, no," he broke in eagerly. "I want you still to regard Barrow as your headquartersto stay on here with

She was touched by the kindly suggestion; nevertheless, she shook her head with decision.

"It is more than kind of you to think of such a thing," she said gratefully. "But it is quite out of the question.

Why, I am not even a cousin several times removed! I have no claim at all. Mrs. Durward"

"Will be delighted. She asked me to be sure and tell you so. Please, Miss Tennant, don't refuse me.

"You may beabsolutely sure. There!"with a sigh of relief"that's settled. But, as I can see you're the

kind of person whose conscientious scruples will begin to worry you the moment I'm gone" he

"I promise," said Sara. She held out her hand. "Andthank you." Her eyes, suddenly misty, supplemented

"Good. That's the car, I think," as the even purring of a motor sounded from outside. "I must be off. But it's

She walked with him to the door, and stood watching until the car was lost in sight round a bend of the drive.

Then, as she turned back into the hall, the emptiness of the house seemed to close down about her all at once,

Amid the manifold duties and emergencies of the last few days she had hardly had time to realize the

immensity of her loss. Practical matters had forcibly obtruded themselves upon her considerationthe

necessity of providing accommodation for the various relatives who had attended the funeral, the frequent

consultations that Major Durward, to all intents and purposes a stranger to the ways of Barrow, had been

obliged to hold with her, the reading of the willall these had combined to keep her in a state of mental and

But now the necessity for doing anything was past; there were no longer any claims upon her time, nothing to

distract her, and she had leisure to visualize the full significance of Patrick's death and all that it entailed.

Rather languidly she mounted the stairs to her own room, and drawing up a low chair to the fire, sat staring

Virtually, she was alone in the world. Even Major Durward, who had been so infinitely kind, was not bound

to her by any ties other than those forged of his own friendly feelings. True, he had been Patrick's cousin. But

Patrick, although he had made up Sara's whole world, had been entirely unrelated to her.

Her heart throbbed with a sudden rush of intense gratitude towards the man who had so amply fulfilled his

trust as guardian, and she glanced up wistfully at the big photograph of him which stood upon the

Propped against the photoframe was a square white envelope on which was written: To be given to my

ward, Sara Tennant, after my death. The family solicitor had handed it to her the previous day, after the

reading of the will, but the demands upon her time and attention had been so many, owing to the number of

relatives who temporarily filled the house, that she had laid it on one side for perusal when she should be

The sight of the familiar handwriting brought a swift mist of tears to her eyes, and she hesitated a little before

It was strange to realize that here was some message for her from Patrick himself, but that no matter what the

envelope might contain, she would be able to give back no answer, make no reply. The knowledge seemed to

set him very far away from her, and for a few moments she sobbed quietly, feeling utterly solitary and alone.

Presently she brushed the tears from her eyes and slit open the flap of the envelope. Inside was a halfsheet

of notepaper wrapped about a small oldfashioned key, and on the outer fold was written: "The key of the

For an instant Sara was puzzled. Then she remembered that amongst Patrick's personal bequests to her had

been that of the small mahogany bureau which stood near the window of his bedroom. It had not occurred to

her at the time that its contents might have any interest for her; in fact, she had supposed it to be empty. But

now she realized that there was evidently something within it which Patrick must have valued, seeing he had

guarded the key so carefully and directed its delivery to her through the reliable hands of his solicitor.

Rather glad of anything that might help to occupy her thoughts, she decided to investigate the bureau at once,

On the threshold she paused, her heart contracting painfully as the spick and span aspect of the room, its

ordered absence of any trace of occupation, reminded her that its onetime owner would never again have

Everything in the house seemed to present her grief to her anew, from some fresh angle, forcing comparison

of what had been with what was the wheeled chair, standing vacant in one of the lobbies, the tobacco jar

perched upon the chimneypiece, the pot of heliotropePatrick's favourite blossomscenting the library

And now his roomempty, swept, and garnished like any one of the score or so of spare bedrooms in the

With an effort, Sara forced herself to enter it. Crossing to the window, she pulled a chair up to the

Chippendale bureau and unlocked it. Then she drew out the sliding desk supports and laid back the flap of

polished mahogany that served as a writingtable. She was conscious of a fleeting sense of admiration for the

finegrained wood and for the smooth "feel" of the old brass handles, worn by long usage, then her whole

attention was riveted by the three things which were all the contents of the deska packet of letters, stained

and yellowing with age and tied together with a broad, black ribbon, a jeweller's velvet case stamped with

faded gilt lettering, and an envelope addressed to herself in Patrick's handwriting.

Very gently, with that tender reverence we accord to the sad little possessions of our dead, Sara gathered

them up and carried them to her own sittingroom. She felt she could not stay to examine them in that

strangely empty, lifeless room that had been Patrick's; the terrible, chill silence of it seemed to beat against

Laying aside the jeweller's case and the package of letters, she opened the envelope which bore her name and

drew out a folded sheet of paper, covered with Patrick's small, characteristic writing. Impulsively she brushed

it with her lips, then, leaning back in her chair, began to read, her expression growing curiously intent as she

absorbed the contents of the letter. Once she smiled, and more than once a sudden rush of unbidden tears

Sara sat very still, the letter clasped in her hand. She had always secretly believed that some longdead

romance lay behind Patrick's bachelorhood, but she had never suspected that her own mother had been the

The knowledge illumined all the past with a fresh light, investing it with a tender, reminiscent sentiment. It

was easy now to understand the almost idyllic atmosphere Patrick had infused into their life together. Sara

recognized it as the outcome of a love and fidelity as beautiful and devoted as it is rare. Patrick's love for her

mother had partaken of the enduring qualities of the great passions of history. Paolo and Francesca, Abelard

and Heloiseeven they could have known no deeper, no more lasting love than that of Patrick Lovell for

The loveletters of the dead woman lay on Sara's lap, still tied together with the black ribbon which Patrick's

fingers must have knotted round them. There were only six of themhalfadozen memories of a love that

had come hopelessly to grieftangible memories which her lover had never had the heart to destroy.

Sara handled them caressingly, these few, pathetic records of a bygone passion, and at length, with hands that

shook a little, she removed the ribbon that bound them together. Where it had lain, preserving the strip of

paper beneath it from contact with the dust, bands of white traversed the faint discoloration which time had

worked upon the outermost envelopesmutely witnessing to the long years that had passed away since the

Slowly, with a rather wistful sense of regret that it must needs be done, Sara dropped them one by one,

unread, into the fire, and watched them flare up with a sudden spurt of flame, then curl and shrivel into dead,

grey ashthose last links with the romance of his youth which Patrick had treasured so long and faithfully.

She wondered what manner of woman her mother could have been to inspire so great a love that even her

own unfaith had failed to sour it. Her childish recollection, blurred by the passage of years, was of a

whitefaced, rather haggardlooking woman with deepset, haunted eyes and a bitter mouth, but whose rare

smile, when it came, was so enchanting that it wiped out, for the moment, all remembrance of the harsh lines

With eager hands the girl picked up the little velvet case that held the miniature, and snapped open the lid.

The painting within, rimmed in old paste, was of a girl in her early twenties. The face was oval, with a small,

pointed chin and a vivid red mouth, curling up at the corners. There was little colour in the cheeks, and the

black hair and extraordinarily dark eyes served to enhance the creamy pallor of the skin. It was not altogether

an English face; the cheekbones were too high, and there was a definiteness of colouring, a decisive

sharpness of outline in the piquant features, not often found in a purely English type.

Seen thus, the face looked strangely familiar to Sara, and yet no memory of hers could recall her mother as

The miniature still in her hand, she moved hesitatingly to a mirror, so placed that the light from the window

fell full upon her as she faced it. In a moment the odd sense of familiarity was explained. There, looking back

at her from the mirror, was the same sharply angled face, the same warm ivory pallor of complexion,

accentuated by raven hair and black, sombre eyes. What was it Patrick had written? "No woman with your

With a curious deliberation, Sara examined the features in question. The eyes were long, and the lids,

opaquely white and fringed with jet black lashes, slanted downwards a little at the outer corners, bestowing

a curiously intense expression, such as one sometimes sees in the eyes of an actor, and the mouth was the

same vividly scarlet mouth of the face in the miniature, at once passionate and sensitive.

The French strain in the Malincourt family had reproduced itself indubitably, both in the appearance of

Pauline and of Pauline's daughter. Would the mother's tragedy, fruit of her singular charm and of a pride

which had accorded love but a secondary place in her scheme of life, also be reenacted in the case of the

daughter? It seemed almost as though Patrick must have had prevision of some like fiery ordeal though

which his "little old pal" might have to pass, so urgent had been the warning he had uttered.

Sara shivered, as if she, too, felt a prescience of coming disaster. It was as though a shadow had fallen across

her path, a shadow of which the substance lay hidden, shrouded in the mists which veil the future.

The entrance to Barrow Court was somewhat forbidding. A flight of shallow granite steps, flanked by

balustrades of the same austere substance, terminating in huge, roughhewn pillars, led up to an enormous

door of ancient oak, studded with nailsdestined, it would seem, to resist the onslaught of an armed

multitude. The sternness of its aspect, when the great door was closed, seemed to add an increased warmth to

the suggestion of welcome it conveyed when, as now, it was swung hospitably open, emitting a ruddy glow

Sara was standing at the top of the granite steps, waiting to greet the Durwards, whose approach was already

A faint regret disquieted her. This was the lastthe very lasttime she would stand at the head of those

stairs in the capacity of a hostess welcoming her guests; and even now her position there was merely an

honorary one! In a few minutes, when Mrs. Durward should step across the threshold, it was she who would

be transformed into the hostess, while Sara would have to take her place as a simple guest in the house which

Thrusting the thought determinedly aside, she watched the big limousine swing smoothly round the curve of

the drive and pull up in front of the house, and there was no trace of reluctance in the smile of greeting which

she summoned up for Major Durward's benefit as he alighted and came towards her with outstretched hand.

"But where are the others?" asked Sara, seeing that the chauffeur immediately headed the car for the garage.

"They're coming along on foot," explained Durward. "Elisabeth declared they should see nothing of the place

cooped up in the car, so they got out at the lodge and are walking across the park."

Sara preceded him into the hall, and they stood chatting together by the teatable until the sound of voices

"Here they are!" exclaimed Durward, hurrying forward to meet them, while Sara followed a trifle

Notwithstanding the charming letter she had received from Mrs. Durward, begging her to remain at Barrow

Court exactly as long as it suited her, now that the moment had come which would actually install the new

mistress of the Court, she began to feel as though her continued presence there might be regarded rather in

Mrs. Durward's letter might very well have been dictated only by a certain superficial politeness, or, even,

solely at the instance of her husband, and it was conceivable that the writer would be none too pleased that

In the course of a few seconds of time Sara contrived to work herself up into a condition bordering upon

panic. And then a very low contralto voice, indescribably sweet, and with an audacious ripple of laughter

running through it, swept all her scruples into the rubbish heap. There was no doubting the sincerity of the

"It was so nice of you not to run away, Miss Tennant." As she spoke, Mrs. Durward shook hands cordially.

"Poor Geoffrey couldn't help being the heir, you know, and if you'd refused to stay, he'd have felt just like the

villain in a cinema film. You've saved us from becoming the crawling, selfreproachful wretches." Then she

turned and beckoned to her son. "This is Tim," she said simply, but the quality of her voice was very much as

As mother and son stood side by side, Sara's first impression was that she had never seen two more beautiful

people. They were both tall, and a kind of radiance seemed to envelope thema glory imparted by the sheer

force of perfect symmetry and healthand, in the case of the former of the two, there was an added charm in

a certain little air of stateliness and distinction which characterized her movements.

Patrick's reminiscent comment on Elisabeth Durward recalled itself to Sara's mind: "I think she was one of

the most beautiful women I have ever seen," and she recognized that almost any one might have truthfully

Mrs. Durward must have been at least forty years of agearguing from the presence of the six foot of young

manhood whom she called sonbut her appearance was still that of a woman who had not long passed her

thirtieth milestone. The supple lines of her figure held the merest suggestion of maturity in their gracious

curves, and the rich chestnut hair, swathed round her small, fine head, gleamed with the sheen which only

youth or immense vitality bestows. Her skin was of that almost dazzling purity which is so often found in

conjunction with reddish hair, and the defect of overlight brows and lashes, which not infrequently mars the

type, was conspicuously absent. Her eyes were arresting. They were of a deep, hyacinth blue, very luminous

and soft, and quite beautiful. But they held a curiously veiled expressiona something guarded and

inscrutableas though they hid some secret inner knowledge sentinelled from the world at large.

Sara, meeting their still, enigmatic gaze, was subtly conscious of an odd sense of repulsion, almost amounting

to dread, and then Elisabeth, making some trivial observation as she moved nearer to the fire, smiled across at

her, and, in the extraordinary charm of her smile, the momentary sensation of fear was forgotten.

Nevertheless, it was with a feeling of relief that Sara encountered the gay, frank glance of the son.

Tim Durward, though dowered to the full with his mother's beauty, had yet been effectually preserved from

the misfortune of being an effeminate repetition of her. In him, Elisabeth's glowing auburn colouring had

sobered to a steady brownevidenced in the crisp, curly hair and suntanned skin; and the misty

hyacinthblue of her eyes had hardened in the eyes of her son into the clear, bright azure of the sea, whist the

beautiful contours of her face, repeated in his, had strengthened into a fine young virility.

"I can't cure mother of introducing me as if I were the Lord Mayor," he murmured plaintively to Sara as they

"Nothing of the sort," asserted Elisabeth composedly. "Naturally I'm pleased with youyou're so absurdly

like me. I always look upon you in the light of a perpetual compliment, because you've elected to grow up

like me instead of like Geoffrey"nodding towards her husband. "After all, you had us both to choose

"Listen to her, Miss Tennant! And for years I've been mistaking mere vulgar female vanity for maternal

"Anyway, you're a very poor compliment," threw in Major Durward, with an expressive glance at his wife's

beautiful face. It was obvious that he worshipped her, and she smiled across at him, blushing adorably, just

"Two parents," continued Tim, firmly ignoring him, "who are hopelessly, besottedly in love with each other.

Instead of beingas I ought to bethe apple of their eyeof both their eyesI'm merely the shadowy

"No one would have suspected it," she assured him; and Tim grinned appreciatively.

"If you stay with us long," he replied, "as I hope"impressively "you will, you'll soon perceive how

utterly I am neglected. Perhaps" his face brightening"you may be moved to take pity on my solitude

"Tim, stop being an idiot," interposed his mother placidly, holding out her cup, "and ask Miss Tennant to give

The advent of the Durwards, breaking in upon her enforced solitude, helped very considerably to arouse Sara

from the natural depression into which she had fallen after Patrick's death. With their absurdly large share of

good looks, their charmingly obvious attachment to each other, and their enthusiastic, unconventional

hospitality towards such an utter stranger as herself, devoid of any real claim upon them, she found the trio

unexpectedly interesting and delightful. They had hailed her as a friend, and her frank, warmhearted nature

responded instantly, speedily according each of them a special niche in her regard. She felt as though

Providence had suddenly endowed her with a whole family"all complete and ready for use," as Tim

cheerfully observedand the reaction from the oppressive consciousness of being entirely alone in the world

The first brief sentiment of aversion which she had experienced towards Elisabeth melted like snow in

sunshine under the daily charm of her companionship; and though the hyacinth eyes held always in their

depths that strange suggestion of mystery, Sara grew to believe it must be merely some curious effect

incidental to the colour and shape of the eyes themselves, rather than an indication of the soul that looked out

There was something perennially captivating about Elisabeth. An atmosphere of romance enveloped her,

engendering continuous interest and surmise, and Sara found it wholly impossible to view her from an

ordinary prosaic standpoint. Occasionally she would recall the fact that Mrs. Durward was in reality a woman

of over forty, mother of a grownup son who, according to all the usages of custom, should be settling down

into the drab and placid backwater of middle age, but she realized that the description went ludicrously wide

There was nothing in the least drab about Elisabeth, nor would there ever be. She was full of colour and

Part of her charm, undoubtedly, lay in her attitude towards husband and son. She was still as romantically in

love with Major Durward as any girl in her teens, and she adored Tim quite openly.

Inevitably, perhaps, there was a touch of the spoilt woman about her, since both men combined to indulge her

in every whim. Nevertheless, there was nothing either small or petty in her willfulness. It was rather the

But the largest share of credit in restoring the latter to a more normal and less highly strung condition was

due to Tim, who gravitated towards her with the facility common to natural man when he finds himself for

any length of time under the same roof with an attractive young person of the opposite sex. He had an

engaging habit of appearing at the door of Sara's sittingroom with an ingratiating: "I say, may I come in for

a yarn?" And, upon receiving permission, he would establish himself on the hearthrug at her feet and

proceed to prattle to her about his own affairs, much as a brother might have done to a favourite sister, and

with an equal assurance that his confidences would be met with sympathetic interest.

"What are you going to do with yourself, Tim?" asked Sara one day, as he sprawled in blissful indolence on

"Do with myself?" he repeated. "What do you mean? I'm doing very comfortably just at present"glancing

"But why not? You can't slack about here for ever, doing nothing. I should have thought you would have

"That's what I wanted to do," he said gruffly. "But the mother wouldn't hear of it."

"But why? You'd make a splendid soldier, Tim"eyeing his long length affectionately.

"I should have loved it," he said wistfully. "I wanted it more than anything. But mother worried so frightfully

whenever I suggested the idea that I had to give it up. I'm to learn to be a landowner and squire and all that

"Of course it could. But mother refused pointblank to let me go to Sandhurst. So now, unless a war crops

upand it doesn't look as though there's much chance of that!I'm out of the running. But if it ever does,

Sara"he laid his hand eagerly on her knee"I swear I'll be one of the first to volunteer. I was a fool to

give in to the mother over the matter, only she was simply making herself ill about it, and, of course, I

Sara wondered why Mrs. Durward should have interfered to prevent her son from following what was

obviously his natural bent. It would have seemed almost inevitable that, as a soldier's son, he should enter one

or other of the Services, and instead, here he was, stranded in a little country backwater, simply eating his

heart out. Mentally she determined to broach the subject to Elisabeth as soon as an opportunity presented

itself; but for the moment she skillfully drew the conversation away from what was evidently a sore subject,

and suggested that Tim should accompany her into Fallowdene, where she had an errand at the post office.

He assented eagerly, with a shake of his broad shoulders as though to rid himself of the disagreeable burden

From the window of his wife's sittingroom Major Durward watched the two as they started on their way to

the village, evidently on the best of terms with one another, a placid smile spreading beneficently over his

"Anything in it, do you think?" he asked, seeing that Elisabeth's gaze had pursued the same course.

"It's impossible to say," she answered quietly. "Tim imagines himself to be falling in love, I don't doubt; but

"I didn't," declared Geoffrey promptly. "I fell in love with you at the mature age of nineteenand I never fell

"Well, would you be pleased?" persisted her husband, jerking his head explanatorily in the direction in which

"I shall always be pleased with the woman who makes Tim happy," she answered simply.

"Sara? No, I shouldn't call her exactly pretty. Her face is too thin, and strong, and eager. But she is a very

It was several days before Sara was able to introduce the topic of Tim's profession, but she contrived it one

afternoon when she and Elisabeth were sitting together awaiting the return of the two men for tea.

"It will be profession enough for Tim to look after the property," Elisabeth made answer. "He can act as agent

for his father to some extent, and relieve him of a great deal of necessary business that has to be transacted."

She spoke with a certain finality which made it difficult to pursue the subject, but Sara, remembering Tim's

"It's a pity he cannot go into the Armyhe's so keen on it," she suggested tentatively.

A curious change came over Elisabeth's face. It seemed to Sara as though a veil had descended, from behind

which the inscrutable eyes were watching her warily. But the response was given lightly enough.

"Oh, one of the family in the Service is enough. I should see so little of my Tim if he became a soldieronly

"He would make a very good soldier," said Sara. "To my mind, it's the finest profession in the world for any

"Do you think so?" Elisabeth spoke coldly. "There are many risks attached to it."

Sara experienced a revulsion of feeling; she had not expected Elisabeth to be of the fearful type of woman.

Women of splendid physique and abounding vitality are rarely obsessed by craven apprehensions.

"I don't think the risks would count with Tim," she said warmly. "He has any amount of pluck." And then she

stared at Elisabeth in amazement. A sudden haggardness had overspread the elder woman's face, the faint

shellpink that usually flushed her cheeks draining away and leaving them milkwhite.

"Yes," she replied in stifled tones. "I don't suppose Tim's a coward. But"more lightly"I think I am.

Idon't think I care for the Army as a profession. Tim is my only child," she added selfexcusingly. "I can't

As she spoke, an odd foreboding seized hold of Sara. It was as though the secret dread of somethingshe

She shivered. Then, the impression fading as quickly as it had come, she spoke defiantly, as if trying to

"There aren't many risks in these piping times of peace. Soldiers don't die in battle nowadays; they retire on a

"Die in battle! Did you think I was afraid of that?" There was a sudden fierce contempt in Elisabeth's voice.

Elisabeth seemed about to make some passionate rejoinder. Then, all at once, she checked herself, and again

Sara was conscious of that curiously secretive expression in her eyes, as though she were on guard.

"There are many things worse than death," she said evasively, and deliberately turned the conversation into

During the days that followed, Sara became aware of a faintly perceptible difference in her relations with

Elisabeth. The latter was still just as charming as ever, but she seemed, in some inexplicable way, to have set

a limit to their intimacydefined a boundary line which she never intended to be overstepped.

It was as though she felt that she had allowed Sara to approach too nearly some inner sanctum which she had

hitherto guarded securely from all intrusion, and now hastened to erect a barricade against a repetition of the

More than once, lately, Sara had broached the subject of her impending departure from Barrow, only to have

the suggestion incontinently brushed aside by Major Durward, who declared that he declined to discuss any

such disagreeable topic. But now, sensitively conscious that she had troubled Elisabeth's peace in some way,

She was agreeably surprised, when she propounded her idea, to find Mrs. Durward seemed quite as unwilling

to part with her as were both her husband and son. Apparently the alteration in her manner, with its curiously

augmented reticence, was no indication of any personal antipathy, and Sara felt proportionately relieved,

"We shall all miss you," averred Elisabeth, and there was absolute sincerity in her tones. "I don't see why you

need be in such a hurry to run away from us." And Geoffrey and Tim chorused approval.

"It's dear of you to want me to stay with you," she declared. "But, don't you see, I must live my own

lifehave a rooftree of my own? I can't just sit down comfortably in the shade of yours."

"Pushful young woman!" chaffed Geoffrey. "Well, I can see your mind is made up. So what are your plans?

"I thought of taking rooms for a while with some really nice people gentlefolk who wanted to take a

"Yes. You see"smiling"you people have spoiled me for living alone, and as I'm really rather a solitary

individual, I must find a little niche for myself somewhere." She unfolded a letter she was holding. "I thought

I should like to go near the seato some quite tiny country place at the back of beyond. And I think I've

found just the thing. I saw an advertisement for a paying guestof the female persuasionso I replied to it,

and I've just had an answer to my letter. It's from a doctor mana Dr. Selwyn, at Monkshavenwho has an

invalid wife and one daughter, and he writes such an original kind of epistle that I'm sure I should like him."

Geoffrey held out his hand for the letter, running his eyes down its contents, while his wife, receiving an

Only Tim appeared to take no interest in the matter, but remained standing rather aloof, staring out of the

" 'Household . . . myself, wife, one daughter,' " muttered Geoffrey. "Umum'quarter of a mile from the

sea'um'As you will have guessed from the fact of my advertising' "here he began to read aloud"

'we are not too lavishly blessed with this world's goods. Our house is roomy and comfortable, though

abominably furnished. But I can guarantee the climate, and there are plenty of nicer people than ourselves in

the neighbourhood. It wouldn't be fitting for me to blow our own particular household trumpetnor, to tell

the truth, is it always calculated to give forth melodious sounds; but if the other considerations I have

mentioned commend themselves to you, I suggest that you come down and make trial of us.' "

"No, I don't," he said decisively. "That's the most unbusinesslike letter I've ever read."

"I like it very much," announced Elisabeth with equal decision. "The man writes just as he thinksperfectly

frankly and naturally. I should go and give them a trial as he suggests. Sara, if I were you."

"That's what I feel inclined to do," replied Sara. "I thought it a delicious letter."

"Then, of course, if you two women have made up your minds that the man's a natural saint, I may as well

hold my peace. What's the fellow's address?I'll look him up in the Medical Directory. Richard Selwyn,

He departed to the library in search of Dr. Selywn's credentials, presently returning with a somewhat rueful

"He seems all rightrather a clever man, judging by his degrees and the appointments he has held," he

"Although I don't understand why such a good man at his job should be practicing in a little onehorse place

"Probably he went there on account of his wife's health," suggested Elisabeth. "He says she is an invalid."

"Oh, well"Geoffrey yielded unwillingly"I suppose you'll go, Sara. But if the experiment isn't a success

"I hope the experiment will be an utter failure," observed Tim, later on, when he and Sara were alone

"Now that's unkind of you, Tim," she protested smilingly. "I thought you were a good enough pal not to want

The churlish tones were so unlike Tim that Sara looked up at him in some amazement. He was staring down

at her with a strange, awakened expression in his eyes; his face was very white and his mouth working.

With a sudden apprehension of what was impending, she sprang up, stretching out her hand as though to

"But it is that," he said, speaking very fast, the serenity of his face all broken up by the surge of emotion that

had gripped him. "It is that. I love you. I didn't know it till you spoke of going away. Sara "

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She broke in hastily. "Don't say any more, Timplease don't!"

In the silence that followed the two young faces peered at each other the one desperate with love, the other

"I'm afraid I don'tnot like that. I thought we were friendsjust friends, Tim," she urged.

Tim lifted his head, and she saw that somehow, in the last few minutes, he had grown suddenly older. His

gay, smiling mouth had set itself sternly; the beautiful boyish face had become a man's.

"I thought so, too," he said gently. "But I know now that what I feel for you isn't friendship. It's"with a

short, grim laugh"something much more than that. Tell me, Sarawill there ever be any chance for me?"

She hesitated. She was so genuinely fond of him that she hated to give him pain. Looking at him, standing

before her in his splendid young manhood, she wondered irritably why she didn't love him. He was pre

"Don't answer me now!" he said swiftly. "I'll waitgive me a chance. I can't take no . . . I won't take it!" he

went on masterfully. "I love you!" Impetuously he slipped his strong young arms about her and kissed her on

The previous moment she had been all softness and regret, but now, at the sudden passion in his voice,

something within her recoiled violently, repudiating the claim his love had made upon her.

Sara was the last woman in the world to be taken by storm. She was too individual, her sense of personal

independence too strongly developed, for her ever to be swept off her feet by a passion to which her own

heart offered no response. Instead, it roused her to a definite consciousness of opposition, and she drew

"I'm sorry, Tim," she said quietly. "But it's no good pretending I'm in love with you. I'm not."

"Yes." He spoke uncertainly. "I've had a feeling that if I let you go, you'll meet some man down there, at

Monkshaven, who'll want to marry you . . . And I shall lose you! . . . Oh, Sara! I don't ask you to say you love

meyet. Say that you'll marry me . . . I'd teach you the restyou'd learn to love me."

But that fierce, unpremeditated kissthe first lover's kiss that she had knownhad endowed her with a

"No," she answered steadily. "I don't know much about love, Tim, but I'm very sure it's no use trying to

manufacture it to order, and listen, Tim, dear," the pain in his face making her suddenly all tenderness

again"if I married you, and afterwards you couldn't teach me as you think you could, we should only be

"I could never be wretched if you were my wife," he answered doggedly. "I've love enough for two."

"No, Tim. Don't let's spoil a good friendship by turning it into a onesided loveaffair."

"I'm afraid it's too late to prevent that," he said drily. "But I won't worry you any more now, dear. OnlyI'm

He looked at her curiously. "No man who loves you, Sara, is going to give you up very easily," he averred.

He lifted her hands and kissed first one and then the other. Then, with his head well up and his shoulders

But the seablue eyes that had been wont to look out on the world so gaily had suddenly lost their carefree

bravery. They were the eyes of a man who has looked for the first time into the radiant, sorrowful face of

Love, and read therein all the possibilitiesthe glory and the pain and the supreme happinesswhich Love

And Sara, standing alone and regretful that the friend had been lost in the lover, never guessed that Tim's love

was a thread which was destined to cross and recross those other threads held by the fingers of Fate until it

It was with a sigh of relief that Sara, in obedience to the warning raucously intoned by a hurrying porter,

vacated her seat in the railway compartment in which she had travelled from Fallowdene. Her companions on

the journey had been an elderly spinster and her maid, and as the former had insisted upon the exclusion of

every breath of outside air, Sara felt halfsuffocated by the time they ran into Oldhampton Junction. The

Monkshaven train was already standing in the station, and, commissioning a porter to transfer her luggage,

she sauntered leisurely along the platform, searching vainly for an empty compartment, where the regulation

The train appeared to be very full, but at last she espied a first class smoking carriage which boasted but a

single occupanta man in the far corner, halfhidden behind the newspaper he was holdingand, tipping

her porter, she stepped into the compartment and busied herself bestowing her handbaggage in the rack.

Sara turned at the sound of his voice. The unwelcoming tones made it abundantly clear that the remainder of

his thought ran: "And you've no business to get into it." A spark of amusement lit itself in her eyes.

"The railway company indicate as much on the window," she replied placidly, with a glance towards the

There came no response, unless an irritated crackling of newspaper could be regarded as suchand the next

moment, to the accompaniment of much banging of doors and a final shout of: "Stand away there!" the train

Sara sat down with a sigh of relief that she had escaped her former travelling companions, with their

unpleasant predilection for a vitiated atmosphere, and her thoughts wandered idly to the consideration of the

man in the corner, to whom she was obviously an equally unwelcome fellowpassenger.

He had retired once more behind his newspaper, and practically all that was offered for her contemplation

consisted of a pair of knee breeches and wellcut leather leggings and two stronglooking, sun tanned

hands. These latter intrigued Sara considerablytheir long, sensitive fingers and short, wellkept nails

according curiously with their sunburnt suggestion of great physical strength and an outdoor life. She wished

their owner would see fit to lower his newspaper once more, since her momentary glimpse of his face had

supplied her with but little idea of his personality. And the hands, so full of contradictory suggestion, aroused

As though in response to her thoughts, the newspaper suddenly crackled down on to its owner's knees.

"I have every intention of smoking," he announced aggressively. "This is a smoking carriage."

Sara, supported by the recollection of a dainty little gold and enamel affair in her handbag, filled with some

"I know it is," she replied in unruffled tones. "That's why I got in. I, too, have every intention of smoking."

He stared at her in silence for a moment, then, without further comment, produced a pipe and tobacco pouch

from the depths of a pocket, and proceeded to fill the former, carefully pressing down the tobacco with the tip

Sara observed him quickly. As he lounged there indolently in his corner, she was aware of a subtle

combination of strength and fine tempering in the long, supple lines of his limbssomething that suggested

the quality of steel, hard, yet pliant. He had a lean, hard bitten face, tanned by exposure to the sun and wind,

and the clean shaven lips met with a curious suggestion of bitter reticence in their firm closing. His hair was

brown"plain brown" as Sara mentally characterized itbut it had a redeeming kink in it and the crispness

of splendid vitality. The eyes beneath the straight, rather frowning brows were hazel, and, even in the brief

space of time occupied by the inimical colloquy of a few moments ago, Sara had been struck by the peculiar

intensity of their regardan odd depth and brilliance only occasionally to be met with, and then preferably in

those eyes which are a somewhat light grey in colour and ringed round the outer edge of the iris with a deeper

The flare of a match roused her from her halfidle, halfinterested contemplation of her fellowpassenger,

and, as he lit his pipe, she was sharply conscious that his oddly luminous eyes were regarding her with a glint

Instantly she recalled his hostile reception of her entrance into the compartment, and the defiantly given

Very deliberately she extracted her cigarettecase from her bag and selected a cigarette, only to discover that

she had not supplied herself with a matchbox. She hunted assiduously amongst the assortment of odds and

ends the bag contained, but in vain, and finally, a little nettled that her companion made no attempt to supply

the obvious deficiency, she looked up to find that he was once more, to all appearances, completely absorbed

Sara regarded him with indignation; in her own mind she was perfectly convinced that he was aware of her

quandary and had no mind to help her out of it. Evidently he had not forgiven her intrusion into his solitude.

With no show of alacrity, and with complete indifference of manner, he produced a matchbox and handed it

to her, immediately reverting to his newspaper as though considerably bored by the interruption.

Sara flushed, and, having lit her cigarette, tendered him his matchbox with an icy little word of thanks.

Apparently, however, he was quite unashamed of his churlishness, for he accepted the box without troubling

to raise his eyes from the page he was reading, and the remainder of the journey to Monkshaven was

As the train slowed up into the station, it became evident to Sara that Monkshaven was also the destination of

her travelling companion, for he proceeded with great deliberation to fold up his newspaper and to hoist his

suitcase down from the rack. It did not seem to occur to him to proffer his service to Sara, who was

struggling with her own handluggage, and the instant the train came to a standstill he opened the door of the

"I wonder who he is?" she reflected, as she followed in the wake of a porter in search of her trunks. "He

Within herself she registered a vindictive vow that, should the circumstances of her residence in Monkshaven

Monkshaven was but a tiny little station, and it was soon apparent that no conveyance of any kind had been

"No, there would be none," opined the porter of whom she inquired. "Dr. Selwyn keeps naught but a little

ponytrap, and he's most times using it himself. But there's a 'bus from the Cliff Hotel meets all trains, miss,

In a few minutes Sara was the proudand thankfuloccupant of the "station keb," and, after bumping over

the cobbles with which the station yard was paved, she found herself being driven in leisurely fashion

through the high street of the little town, whilst her driver, sitting sideways on his box, indicated the points of

Presently the cab turned out of the town and began the ascent of a steep hill, and as they climbed the winding

road, Sara found that she could glimpse the sea, rippling greyly beyond the town, and tufted with little

bunches of spume whipped into being by the keen March wind. The town itself spread out before her, an

assemblage of red and grey tiled roofs sloping downwards to the curve of the bay, while, on the right, a bold

promontory thrust itself into the sea, grimly resisting the perpetual onslaught of the wave. Through the

waning light of the winter's afternoon, Sara could discern the outline of a house limned against the dark

background of woods that crowned it. Linked to the jutting headland, a long range of seawashed cliffs

"That be Monk's Cliff," vouchsafed the driver conversationally. "Bit of a lonesome place for folks to choose

"Gentleman of the name of Trentqueer kind of bloke he must be, too, if all's true they say of 'im. He's lived

there a matter of ten years or morelives by 'imself with just a man and his wife to do for 'im. Far End, they

"Far End," repeated Sara. The name conveyed an odd sense of remoteness and inaccessibility. It seemed

Her eyes rested musingly on the bleak promontory. It would be a fit abode, she thought, for some recluse,

determined to eschew the society of his fellowmen; here he could dwell, solitary and apart, surrounded on

three sides by the grey, dividing sea, and protected on the fourth by the steep untempting climb that lay

The voice of her Jehu roused her from her reflections to find that the cab had stopped in front of a

whitepainted wooden gate bearing the legend, "Sunnyside," painted in black letters across its topmost bar.

"I'll take the keb round to the stableyard, miss; it'll be more convenientlike for the luggage," added the

man, with a mildly disapproving glance towards the narrow tiled path leading from the gate to the

Sara nodded, and, having paid him his fare, made her way through the white gateway and along the path.

There seemed a curious absence of life about the place. No sound of voices broke the silence, and, although

the front door stood invitingly open, there was no sign of any one hovering in the background ready to

Vaguely chilledsince, of course, they must be expecting hershe rang the bell. It clanged noisily through

the house but failed to produce any more important result than the dislodging of some dust from a ledge

above which the bellwire ran. Sara watched it fall and lie on the floor in a little patch of fine, greyish

The hall, of which the open door gave view, though of considerable dimensions, was poorly furnished. The

wide expanse of colourwashed wall was broken only by a hatstand, on which hung a large assortment of

masculine hats and coats, all of them looking considerably the worse for wear, and by two straightbacked

chairs placed with praiseworthy exactitude at equal distances apart from the aforesaid rather overburdened

piece of furniture. The floor was covered with linoleum of which the black and white chessboard pattern

had long since retrogressed with usage into an uninspiring blur. A couple of threadbare rugs completed a

Sara rang the bell a second time, on this occasion with an irritable force that produced clangour enough, one

would have thought, to awaken the dead. It served, at all events, to arouse the living, for presently heavy

footsteps could be heard descending the stairs, and, finally, a middleaged maidservant, whose cap had

obviously been assumed in haste, appeared, confronting Sara with an air of suspicion that seemed rather to

"The doctor's out," she announced somewhat truculently. Then, before Sara had time to formulate any reply,

she added, a thought more graciously: "Maybe you're a stranger to these parts. Surgery hour's not till six

She was evidently fully prepared for Sara to accept this as a dismissal, and looked considerably astonished

"You're right there. The mistress isn't up for seeing visitors. And Miss Molly, she's not homeshe's away to

"Butbut" stammered Sara. "They're expecting me, surely? I'm Miss Tennant," she added by way of

"Miss Tennant! Sakes alive!" The woman threw up her hands, staring at Sara with an almost comic

expression, halting midway between bewilderment and horror. "If that isn't just the way of them," she went

on indignantly, "never mentioning that 'twas today you were comingand no sheets aired to your bed and

all! The master, he never so much as named it to me, nor Miss Molly neither. But please to come in, miss"

her outraged sense of hospitality infusing a certain limited cordiality into her tones.

The woman led the way into a sittingroom that opened off the hall, standing aside for Sara to pass in, then,

muttering halfinaudibly, "You'll be liking a cup of tea, I expect," she disappeared into the back regions of

the house, whence a distant clattering of china shortly gave indication that the proffered refreshment was in

Sara seated herself in a somewhat battered armchair and proceeded to take stock of the room in which she

found herself. It tallied accurately with what the hall had led her to expect. Most of the furniture had been

good of its kind at one time, but it was now all reduced to a drab level of shabbiness. There were a few

genuine antiques amongst ita couple of camelbacked Chippendale chairs, a grandfather's clock, and some

fine old bits of silverwhich Sara's eye, accustomed to the rare and beautiful furnishings of Barrow Court,

singled out at once from the olla podrida of incongruous modern stuff. These alone had survived the general

condition of disrepair; but, even so, the silver had a neglected appearance and stood badly in need of

This latter criticism might have been leveled with equal justice at almost everything in the room, and Sara,

mindful of her reception, reflected that in such an oddly conducted household, where the advent of an

expected, and obviously muchneeded, paying guest could be completely overlooked, it was hardly probable

Instead of depressing her, however, the forlorn aspect of the room assisted to raise her spirits. It looked as

though there might very well be a niche in such a household that she could fill. Mentally she proceeded to

make a tour of the room, duster in hand, and she had just reached the point where, in imagination, she was

about to place a great bowl of flowers in the middle desert of the table, when the elderly Abigail reappeared

Sara made a wry face over the tea. It tasted flat, and she could well imagine the longboiling kettle from

A masculine voice sounded abruptly from the doorway, and, looking up, Sara beheld a tall, eagerfaced man,

wearing a loose shabby coat and carrying in one hand a professionallooking doctor's bag. The bag, however,

was the only professionallooking thing about him. For the rest, he might have been taken to be either an

impoverished country squire and sportsman, or a Roman Catholic dignitary, according to whether you

assessed him by his broad, wellknit figure and weather beaten complexion, puckered with wrinkles born of

jolly laughter, or by the somewhat austere and controlled set of his mouth and by the ardent luminous grey

"And I'm sure you're Dr. Selwyn," she said, a flicker of amusement at his unconventional greeting in her

"Right!" he answered, shaking hands. "How are you, Miss Tennant? It was plucky of you to decide to risk us

after all, and I hope" with a slight grimace"you won't find we are any worse than I depicted. I was very

sorry I had to be out when you came," he went on genially, "but I expect Molly has looked after you all right?

Dr. Selwyn's expression was not unlike that of a puppy caught in the unlawful possession of his master's

"What did I warn you?" he exclaimed with a rueful laugh. "We're quite a hopeless household, I'm afraid. And

Molly's the most absentminded of beings. I expect she has clean forgotten that you were coming today.

She's by way of being an artistartstudent, rather" correcting himself with a smile. "You know the kind

of thingblack carpets and Futurist colour schemes in dress. So you must try and forgive her. She's only

seventeen. But JaneI hope Jane did the honours properly? She is our standby in all emergencies."

"I'm afraid I came upon Jane entirely in the light of an unpleasant surprise," she responded mildly.

"What! Do you mean to say she wasn't prepared for you? Oh, but this is scandalous! What must you think of

us all?" he strode across the room and pealed the bell, and, when Jane appeared in answer to the summons,

Jane surveyed him with the immovable calm of the old family servant, her arms akimbo.

"And how should it be?" she wanted to know. "Seeing that neither you nor Miss Molly named it to me that

"And did you expect her to do so, sir, may I ask?" inquired Jane with withering scorn.

"Do you mean to tell me that Miss Molly gave you no orders about preparing a room?" countered the doctor,

"No, sir, she didn't. And if I'm kep' here talking much longer, there won't be one prepared, neither! 'Tis no use

crying over spilt milk. Let me get on with the airing of my sheets, and do you talk to the young lady whiles I

"Jane Crab," observed Selwyn, twinkling, "has been with us fiveand twenty years. I had better do as she

tells me." He threw a doleful glance at the unappetizing tea in Sara's cup. "I positively dare not order you

fresh teain the circumstances. Jane would probably retaliate with an ultimatum involving a rigid choice

between tea and the preparation of your room, accompanied by a pithy summary of the capabilities of one

"I shouldvery much. But I see no prospect of getting any while Jane maintains her present attitude of

"On your own head be it, then," retorted the doctor, and led the way to the sacrosanct domain presided over

How Sara managed it Selwyn never knew, but she contrived to invade Jane's kitchen and perform the office

of teamaking without offending her in the very least. Nay, more, by some occult process known only to

herself, she succeeded in winning Jane's capacious heart, and from that moment onwards, the autocrat of the

kitchen became her devoted satellite; and later, when Sara started to make drastic changes in the slipshod

"Miss Tennant's the only body in the place as has got some sense in her head," she was heard to observe on

After tea, Selwyn escorted Sara upstairs and introduced her to his wife. Mrs. Selwyn was a slender, colourless

woman, possessing the remnants of what must at one time have been an ineffective kind of prettiness. She

was a determinedly chronic invalid, and rarely left the rooms which had been set aside for her use to join the

"The stairs try my heart, you see," she told Sara, with the martyred air peculiar to the hypochondriacthe

genuine sufferer rarely has it. "It is, of course, a great deprivation to me, and I don't think either Dick"with

an inimical glance at her husband"or Molly come up to see me as often as they might. Stairs are no

Selwyn, who invariably ran up to see his wife immediately on his return from no matter how long or how

"I come as often as I can, Minnie," he said patiently. "You must remember my time is not my own."

"No, dear, of course not. And I expect that outside patients are much more interesting to visit than one's own

"Of course they do." She turned to Sara. "Dick always thinks in terms of breadandbutter, Miss Tennant,"

she said sneeringly. "But money means little enough to any one with my poor health. Beyond procuring me a

Sara was privately of the opinion that it had done a good deal for her. Looking round the luxuriously

furnished room with its blazing fire, and then at Mrs. Selwyn herself, elegantly clad in a restgown of rich

silk, she could better understand the povertystricken appearance of the rest of the house, Dick's shabby

clothes, and his willingness to receive a paying guest whose contribution towards the housekeeping might

Here, then, was where his hardearned guineas wentto keep in luxury this petulant, complaining woman

whose entire thoughts were centred about her own bodily comfort, and whom Patrick Lovell, with his lucid

recognition of values, would have contemptuously described as "a parasite woman, m'dearthe kind of

"Oh, Dick"Mrs. Selwyn had been turning over the pages of a price list that was lying on her knee"I see

the World's Store have just brought out a new kind of adjustable readingtable. It's a much lighter make than

"How much does it cost, dear?" he asked nervously. "These mechanical contrivances are very expensive, you

"Five guineas is rather a lot of money, Minnie," he said gravely. "Couldn't you manage with the table you

"Of, of course!" she declared. "That's always the way. 'Can't I manage with what I have? Can't I make do with

this, that, and the other?' I believe you grudge every penny you spend on me!" she wound up acrimoniously.

"You know it's not that, Minnie," he replied in a painfully controlled voice. "It's simply that I can't afford

these things. I give you everything I can. If I were only a rich man, you should have everything you want."

"Perhaps if you were to work a little more intelligently you'd make more money," she retorted. "If only you'd

keep your brains for the use of people who can payand pay wellI shouldn't be deprived of every little

comfort I ask for! Instead of that, you've got half the poor of Monkshaven on your handsand if you think

they can't afford to pay, you simply don't send in a bill. Oh, I know!"sitting up excitedly in her chair, a

patch of angry scarlet staining each cheek "I hear what goes oneven shut away from the world as I am.

It's just to curry popularityyou get all the praise, and I suffer for it! I have to go without what I want"

"No, I won't hush! It's 'Doctor Dick this,' and 'Doctor Dick that' oh, yes, you see, I know their name for

you, these slum patients of yours!but it's Doctor Dick's wife who really foots the billsby going without

"Minnie, be quiet!" Selwyn broke in sternly. "Remember Miss Tennant is present."

But she had got beyond the stage when the presence of a third person, even that of an absolute stranger, could

"Well, since Miss Tenant's going to live here, the sooner she knows how things stand the better! She won't be

here long without seeing how I'm treated"her voice rising hysterically"set on one side, and denied even

She broke off in a storm of angry weeping, and Sara retreated hastily from the room, leaving husband and

She had barely regained the shabby sittingroom when the front door opened and closed with a bang, and a

"Jane! Jane! Come here, my pretty Jane! I've brought home some shrimps for tea!"

Sara could hear Jane's admonitory whisper, and there followed a murmured colloquy, punctuated by

exclamations and gusts of young laughter, calling forth renewed remonstrance from Jane, and then the door

of the room was flung open, and Molly Selwyn sailed in and overwhelmed Sara with apologies for her

reception, or rather, for the lack of it. She was quite charming in her penitence, waving dimpled, deprecating

hands, and appealing to Sara with a pair of liquid, disarming, goldenbrown eyes that earned her forgiveness

She was a statuesque young creature, compact of large, soft, gracious curves and swaying movementswith

her nimbus of pale golden hair, and curiously floating, undulating walk, rather reminding one of a stray

goddess. Always untidy with hooks lacking at important junctures, and the trimmings of her hats usually

pinned on with a casualness that occasionally resulted in their deserting the hat altogether, she could still

Her red, curving mouth of a child, cleft chin, and dimpled, tapering hands all promised a certain yieldingness

of dispositiona tendency to take always the line of least resistancebut it was a charming, appealing kind

of frailty which most peoplethe sterner sex, certainlywould be very ready to condone.

It is a wonderful thing to be young. Molly poured herself out a cup of hideously stewed tea and drank it

joyously to an accompaniment of shrimps and breadandbutter, and when Sara uttered a mild protest, she

only laughed and declared that it was a wholesome and digestible diet compared with some of the "studio

teas" perpetrated by the artists' colony at Oldhampton, of which she was a member.

She chattered away gaily to Sara, giving her vivacious thumbnail portraits of her future neighboursthe

"The Herricks and Audrey Maynard are our most intimate friendsI'm sure you'll adore them. Mrs.

Maynard is a widow, and if she weren't so frightfully rich, Monkshaven would be perennially shocked at her.

She is ultrafashionable, and smokes whenever she chooses, and swears when ordinary language fails

herall of which things, of course, are anathema to the select circles of Monkshaven. But then she's a

millionaire's widow, so instead of giving her the cold shoulder, every one gushes round her and declares 'Mrs.

Maynard is such a thoroughly modern type, you know!' "Molly mimicked the sugarandvinegar accents

of the critics to perfection"and privately Audrey shouts with laughter at them, while publicly she continues

"No." Molly shook her head. "Miles is a bachelor who lives with a maiden auntMiss Lavinia. Or, rather,

she lives with him and housekeeps for him. 'The Lavender Lady,' I always call her, because she's one of those

delightful oldfashioned people who remind one of dimity curtains, and potpourri, and little muslin bags of

Sara waited with a curious eagerness for any description which might seem to fit her recent fellowtraveller,

but none came, and at last she threw out a question in the hope of eliciting his name.

"He was horribly ungracious and rude," she added," and yet he didn't look in the least the sort of man who

would be like that. There was no lack of breeding about him. He was just deliberately snubbyas though I

had no right to exist on the same planet with himanyway"laughing "not in the same railway

"I believe I know whom you mean. Was he a lean, brown, grimlooking individual, with the kind of eyes that

"Yes. He's a queer, silent man who lives all by himself at a house built almost on the edge of Monk's

"Oh!" exclaimed Sara, with sudden enlightenment. "Then his name is Trent. The cabman presented me with

"YesGarth Trent. It's rather an odd namesounds like a railway collision, doesn't it? But it suits him

"Have you met him?" prompted Sara. It was odd how definite an interest her brief encounter with him had

"He told some one afterwardsMiles Herrick, the only man he ever speaks to, I think, without

compulsionthat I was 'the Delilah type of woman, and ought to have been strangled at birth.' "

"Oh, he's a womanhaterin fact, I believe he has a grudge against the world in general, but woman in

At this moment Selwyn reentered the room, his grave face clearing a little as he caught sight of his

"Hullo, Molly mine! Got back, then?" he said, smiling. "Have you made your peace with Miss Tennant, you

"It's a hereditary taint, Daddon't blame me!" retorted Molly with lazy impudence, pulling his head down

"Yes. I fancy I must have travelled down with him from Oldhampton. He seemed rather a boorish

"Monk's Cliff would appear to be an appropriate habitation for him, then," commented Sara tartly.

They all laughed, and presently Selwyn suggested that his daughter should run up and see her mother.

"She'll be hurt if you don't go up, kiddy," he said. "And try and be very nice to hershe's a little tired and

When she had left the room he turned to Sara, a curious blending of proud reluctance and regret in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Tennant," he said simply, "that you should have seen our worst side so soon after your

"Oh, please, please don't apologize," broke in Sara hastily. "I'm so sorry I happened to be there just then. It

"It's very kind of you to take it like that," he said. "After all" frankly"you could not have remained with

us very long without finding out our particular skeleton in the cupboard. My wife's state of healthor,

rather, what she believes to be her state of healthis a great grief to me. I've tried in every way to convince

her that she is not really so delicate as she imagines, but I've failed utterly."

Now that the ice was broken, he seemed to find relief in pouring out the pitiful little tragedy of his home life.

"She is comparatively young, you know, Miss Tennantonly thirty seven, and she willfully leads the life

of a confirmed invalid. It has grown upon her gradually, this absorption in her health, and now, practically

"Oh, Doctor Dick"the little nickname, that had its origin in his slum patients' simple affection for the man

who tended them, came instinctively from her lips. It seemed, somehow, to fit itself to the big, kindly man

with the sternly rugged face and eyes of a saint. "Oh, Doctor Dick, I'm so sorryso very sorry!"

Perhaps something in the dainty, wellgroomed air of the woman beside him helped to accentuate the

neglected appearance of the room, for he looked round in an irritated kind of way, as though all at once

"And thisthis, too," he muttered. "There's no one at the helm. . . . The truth is, I ought never to have let you

"I've very glad I came," she said simply. "I think I'm going to be very happy here."

"You've got grit," he replied quietly. "You'd make a success of your life anywhere. I

wish"thoughtfully"Molly had a little of that same quality. Sometimes"a worried frown gathered on

his face"I get afraid for Molly. She's such a child . . . and no mother to hold the reins."

"Doctor Dick, would you consider it impertinent ifif I laid my hands on the reinsjust now and then?"

"Impertinent! I should be illimitably thankful! You can see how things areI am compelled to be out all my

time, my wife hardly ever leaves her own rooms, and Molly and the house affairs just get along as best they

Then," said Sara, smiling, "I shall put my finger in the pie. I've I've no one to look after now, since Uncle

"It's absurd!" he exclaimed, regarding her with unfeigned delight. "Here you come along, prepared, no doubt,

to be treated as a 'guest,' and the first thing I do is to shovel half my troubles on to your shoulders. It's

absurddisgraceful! . . . But it's amazingly good!" He held out his hand, and as Sara's slim fingers slid into

Sara stood on the great headland known as Monk's Cliff, watching with delight the whitetopped billows

hurling themselves against its mighty base, only to break in a baulked fury of thunder and upflung spray.

She had climbed the steep ascent thither on more than one day of storm and bluster, reveling in the buffeting

of the gale and in the pungent tang of brine from the spraydrenched air. The cry of the wind, shrieking along

the face of the seabitten cliff, reminded her of the scream of the hurricane as it tore through the pinewoods

at Barrow shaking their giant tops hither and thither as easily as a child's finger might shake a Canterbury

Something wild and untamed within her responded to the savage movement of the scene, and she stood for a

long time watching the expanse of restless, windtossed waters, before turning reluctantly in the direction of

home. If for nothing else than for this gift of glorious sea and cliff, she felt she could be content to pitch her

Her way led past Far End, the solitary house perched on the sloping side of the headland, and, as she

approached, she became aware of a curious change of character in the sound of the wind. She was sheltered

now from its fiercest onslaught, and it seemed to her that it rose and fell, moaning in strange, broken

She paused a moment, thinking at first that this was due to the wind's whining through some narrow passage

betwixt the outbuildings of the house, then, as the chromatic wailing broke suddenly into vibrating

harmonies, she realized that some one actually was playing the violin, and playing it remarkably well, too.

Instinctively she yielded to the fascination of it, and, drawing nearer to the house, leaned against a sheltered

Whoever the musician might be, he was a thorough master of his instrument, and Sara listened with delight,

recognizing some of the haunting melodies of the wild Russian music which he was playing music that

even in its moments of delirious joy seemed to hold always an underlying bourdon of tragedy and despair.

She started violently. Entirely absorbed in the music, she had failed to observe a man, dressed in the style of

an indoor servant, who had appeared in the doorway of one of the outbuildings and who now addressed her in

"Nor is it, that I know of. But you're on the Far End estate nowthis is a private road," replied the man

A faint flush of indignation crept up under the warm pallor of Sara's skin. Then, a sudden thought striking

Mentally she envisioned a pair of sensitive, virile hands, lean and brown, with the short, wellkept nails that

any violinist needs must havethe contradictory hands which had aroused her interest on the journey to

"I don't hear no one playing," replied the man stolidly. She felt certain he was lying, but he gave her no

"Certainly I'll go," she said. "I'm sorry. I had no idea that I was trespassing."

The man's truculent manner softened, as, with the intuition of his kind, he recognized in the composed little

"Beggin' your pardon, miss," he said, with a considerable accession of civility, "but it's as much as my place

"You're perfectly right to obey orders," she said, and bending her steps towards the public road from which

"Your mysterious 'Hermit' is nothing if not thorough," she told Doctor Dick and Molly on her return. "I

trespassed on to the Far End property today, and was ignominiously ordered off by a rather aggressive

"That would be Judson," nodded Selwyn. "I've attended him once or twice professionally. The fellow's all

"So it seems," returned Sara. "By the way, who is the violinist at Far End? Is it the 'Hermit' himself?"

"It's rumoured that he does play," said Molly. "But no one has ever been privileged to hear him."

"Their loss, then," commented Sara shortly. "I should say he is a magnificent performer."

"On the sole occasion I met him, I asked him why no one was ever allowed to hear him play," she said,

chuckling. "I even suggested that he might contribute a solo to the charity concert we were getting up at the

"Told me that there was no need for a man to exhibit his soul to the public! So I asked him what he meant,

and he said that if I understood anything about music I would know, and that if I didn't, it was a waste of his

"Yes," said Sara slowly, "I think I do." And recalling the passionate appeal and sadness of the music she had

heard that afternoon, she was conscious of a sudden quick sense of pity for the solitary hermit of Far End. He

was afraidafraid to play to any one, lest he should reveal some inward bitterness of his soul to those who

The following day, Molly carried Sara off to Rose Cottage to make the acquaintance of "the Lavender Lady"

Miss Herrickor Miss Lavinia, as she was invariably addressedlooked exactly as though she had just

stepped out of the early part of last century. She wore a gown of some soft, silky material, sprigged with

heliotrope, and round her neck a fichu of cobwebby lace, fastened at the breast with a cameo brooch of old

Italian workmanship. A coquettish little lace cap adorned the silvergrey hair, and the face beneath the cap

was just what you would have expected to find itsoft and very gentle, its porcelain pink and white a little

She was alone when the two girls arrived, and greeted Sara with a humorous little smile.

"How kind of you to come, Miss Tennant! We've been all agog to meet you, Miles and I. In a tiny place like

Monkshaven, you see, every one knows every one else's business, so of course we have been hearing of you

"Then you might have come to Sunnyside to investigate me personally," replied Sara, smiling back.

Miss Lavinia's face sobered suddenly, a shadow falling across her kind old eyes.

"Miles israther difficult about calling," she said hesitatingly. "You will understandhis lameness makes

"Oh! Perhaps it would have been better if I had not come?" she suggested hastily. "Shall I run away and leave

"My dear, I hope Miles knows how to welcome a guest in his own house as befits a Herrick," she said, with a

delicious little air of old world dignity. "Indeed, it is an excellent thing for him to be dragged out of his

shell. Only, pleasewill you remember?treat him exactly as though he were not lamenever try to help

him in any way. It is that which hurts him so badlywhen people make allowances for his lameness. Just

Sara nodded. She could understand that instinctive man's pride which recoiled from any tolerant recognition

"It came through a very splendid deed." Little Miss Lavinia's eyes glowed as she spoke. "He stopped a pair of

runaway carriagehorses. They had taken fright at a motorlorry, and, when they bolted, the coachman was

thrown from the box, so that it looked as if nothing could save the occupants of the carriage. Miles flung

himself at the horses' heads, and although, of course, he could not actually stop them singlehanded, he so

impeded their progress that a second man, who sprang forward to help, was able to bring them to a standstill."

"How plucky of him!" exclaimed Sara warmly. "You must be very proud of your nephew, Miss Lavinia!"

"Ah! My dear," she said sadly, "splendid things are done at such a cost, and when they are over we are apt to

forget the splendour and remember only the heavy price. . . . My poor Miles was horribly injuredhe had

been dragged for yards, clinging to the horses' bridlesand for weeks we were not even sure if he would

The little instinctive silence which followed was broken by the sound of voices in the hall outside, and, a

minute later, Miles Herrick himself came into the room, escorting a very fashionably attired and distinctly

She was not in the least pretty, but the narrowest of narrow skirts in vogue in the spring of 1914 made no

secret of the fact that her figure was almost perfect. Her face was small and thin and inclined to be sallow,

and beneath upwardslanting brows, to which art had undoubtedly added something, glimmered a pair of

greenishgrey eyes, clear like rain. Nor was there any mistaking the fact that the rich coppercolour of the

hair swathed beneath the smart little hat had come out of a bottle, and was in no way to be accredited to

nature. It was small wonder that primitive Monkshaven stood aghast at such flagrant tampering with the

But notwithstanding her uptodate air of artificiality, there was something immensely likeable about

Audrey Maynard. Behind it all, Sara sensed the real womanclever, tactful, and generously warmhearted.

Woman, when all is said and done, is frankly primitive in her instincts, and the desire to attractwith all its

odd manifestations is really but the outcome of her innate desire for home and a mate. It is this which lies

at the root of most of her little vanities and weaknessesand of all the big sacrifices of which she is capable

as well. So she may be forgiven the former, and trusted to fall short but rarely of the latter when the crucial

"Miles and I have beenas usualsquabbling violently," announced Mrs. Maynard. "Sugar, pleaselots of

it," she added, as Herrick handed her her tea. "It was about the man who lives at Far End," she continued in

reply to the Lavender Lady's smiling query. "Miles has been very irritating, and tried to smash all my

suggested theories to bits. He insists that the Hermit is quite a commonplace, harmless young man"

"Now that's so dull, when half Monkshaven believes him to be a villain of the deepest dye, hiding from

justiceor, possibly, a Bluebeard with an unhappy wife imprisoned somewhere in that weird old house of

Sara listened with undignified interest. It was strange how the enigmatical personality of the owner of Far

"Mr. Trent's a masculine reincarnation of her, then," retorted Mrs. Maynard, undefeated.

Herrick smiled tolerantly. He was a tall, slenderly built man, with whimsical brown eyes and the halfstern,

"Homme incompris," he suggested lightly. "Give the fellow his due he at least supplies the feminine half

Audrey took up the implied challenge with enthusiasm, and the two of them wrangled comfortably together

till tea was over. Then she demanded a cigaretteand another cushionand finally sent Miles in search of

some snapshots they had taken together and which he had developed since last they had met. She treated him

exactly as though he suffered no handicap, demanding from him all the little services she would have asked

Sara herself, accustomed to anticipating every need of Patrick Lovell's, would have been inclined to feel

somewhat compunctious over allowing a lame man to wait upon her, yet, as she watched the eager way in

which Miles responded to the visitor's behests, she realized that in reality Audrey was behaving with supreme

tact. She let Miles feel himself a man as other men, not a mere "lame duck" to whom indulgence must needs

And once, when her hair just brushed his cheek, as he stooped over her to indicate some special point in one

of the recently developed photos, Sara surprised a sudden ardent light in his quiet brown eyes that set her

wondering whether possibly, the incessant sparring between Herrick and the lively, impulsive woman who

It was one of those surprisingly warm days, holding a foretaste of June's smiles, which March occasionally

The sun blazed down out of a windless, cloudless sky, and Sara, making her way leisurely through the

straggling woods that intervened betwixt the Selwyns' house and Monk's Cliff, felt the saltladen air wafted

Molly had gone to Oldhamptonsince the artists' colony there would be certain to take advantage of this gift

of a summer's day to arrange a sketching party, and, as the morning's post had brought Sara a letter from

Elisabeth Durward which had occasioned her considerable turmoil of spirit, she had followed her natural bent

From her earliest days at Barrow she had always carried the small tangles of childhood to a remote corner of

the pinewoods for solution, and the habit had grown with her growth, so that now, when a rather bigger

tangle presented itself, she turned instinctively to the solitude of the cliffs at Monkshaven, where the murmur

of the sea was borne in her ears, plaintively reminiscent of the sound of the wind in her beloved pine trees.

Spring comes early in the sheltered, southern bay of Monkshaven, and already the bracken was sending up

pushful little shoots of young green, curled like a baby's fist, while the primroses, bunched together in

clusters, thrust peering faces impertinently above the green carpet of the woods. Sara stopped to pick a

handful, tucking them into her belt. Then, emerging from the woods, she breasted the steep incline that led to

A big boulder, half overgrown with moss and lichen, offered a tempting restingplace, and flinging herself

down on the yielding turf beside it, she leaned back and drew out Elisabeth's letter.

She had sometimes wondered whether Elisabeth had any suspicion of the fact that, before leaving Barrow,

she had refused to marry Tim. The friendship and understanding between mother and son was so deep that it

was very possible that Tim had taken her into his confidence. And even if he had not, the eyesight of love is

extraordinarily keen, and Elisabeth would almost inevitably have divined that something was amiss with his

If this were so, as Sara admitted to herself with a wry smile, there was little doubt that she would look

And now, although her letter contained no definite allusion to the matter, reading between the lines, the

conviction was borne in upon Sara that Elisabeth knew all that there was to know, and had ranged herself,

It was obvious that she thought of the whole world in terms of Tim, and, had she been a different type of

But there was nothing in the least henlike about Elisabeth Durward. Only, whenever Tim came near her, her

face, with its strangely inscrutable eyes, would irradiate with a sudden warmth and tenderness of emotion that

was akin to the exquisite rapture of a lover when the beloved is near. To Sara, there seemed something a little

The letter itself was charmingly writtenexpressing the hope that Sara was happy and comfortable at

Monkshaven, recalling their pleasant time at Barrow together, and looking forward to other future visits from

It was this last sentence, combined with one or two other phrases into which much or little meaning might

equally as easily be read, which had aroused in Sara a certain uneasy instinct of apprehension. Dimly she

sensed a vague influence at work to strengthen the ties that bound her to Barrow, and to all that Barrow

She faced the question with characteristic frankness. Tim had his own place in her heartsecure and

unassailable. But it was not the place in that sacred inner temple which is reserved for the one man, and she

recognized this with a limpid clearness of perception rather uncommon in a girl of twenty. She also

recognized that it was within the bounds of possibility that the one man might never come to claim that place,

and that, if she gave Tim the answer he so ardently desired, they would quite probably rub along together as

well as most married folk better, perhaps, than a good many. But she was very sure that she never intended

Thus she reasoned, with the untried confidence of youth, which is so pathetically certain of itself and of its

ultimate power to hold to its ideals, ignorant of the overpowering influences which may develop to push a

man or woman this way or that, or of the pain that may turn clear, definite thought into a welter of blind

anguish, when the soul in its agony snatches at any anodyne, true or false, which may seem to promise relief.

A little irritably she folded up Elisabeth's letter. It was disquieting in some waysshe could not quite explain

whyand just now she felt averse to wrestling with disturbing ideas. She only wanted to lie still, basking in

the tranquil peace of the afternoon, and listen to the murmuring voice of the sea.

She closed her eyes indolently, and presently, lulled by the drowsy rhythm of the waves breaking at the foot

She woke with a start. An ominous drop of rain had splashed down on to her cheek, and she sat up, broad

awake in an instant and shivering a little. It had turned much colder, and a wind had risen which whispered

round her of coming storm, while the blue sky of an hour ago was hidden by heavy, platinumcoloured

Another and another raindrop fell, and, obeying their warning, Sara sprang up and bent her steps in the

direction of home. But she was too late to avoid the storm which had been brewing, and before she had gone

a hundred yards it had begun to break in drifting scurries of rain, driven before the wind.

She hurried on, hoping to gain the shelter of the woods before the threatened deluge, but within ten minutes

of the first heralding drops it was upon hera torrent of blinding rain, sweeping across the upland like a wet

She looked about her desperately, in search of cover, and perceiving, on the further side of a low stone wall,

what she took to be a wooden shelter for cattle, she quickened her steps to a run, and, nimbly vaulting the

It was not, however, the cattle shed she had supposed it, but a roughly constructed summerhouse, open on

one side to the four winds of heaven and with a wooden seat running round the remaining three.

Sara guessed immediately that she must have trespassed again on the Far End property, but reflecting that

neither its owner nor his lynx eyed servant was likely to be abroad in such a downpour as this, and that,

even if they were, and chanced to discover her, they could hardly object to her taking refuge in this outlying

shelter, she shook the rain from her skirts and sat down to await the lifting of the storm.

As always in such circumstances, the time seemed to pass inordinately slowly, but in reality she had not been

there more than a quarter of an hour before she observed the figure of a man emerge from some trees, a few

hundred yards distant, and come towards her, and despite the fact that he was wearing a raincoat, with the

collar turned up to his ears, and a tweed cap pulled well down over his head, she had no difficulty in

recognizing in the approaching figure her fellow traveller of the journey to Monkshaven.

Evidently he had not seen her, for she could hear him whistling softly to himself as he approached, while with

the fingers of one hand he drummed on his chest as though beating out the rhythm of the melody he was

whistlinga wild, passionate refrain from Wieniawski's exquisite Legende. It sounded curiously in harmony

For himself, he appeared to regard the storm with indifferencealmost to welcome it, for more than once

Sara saw him raise his head as though he were glad to feel the wind and rain beating against his face.

She drew back a little into the shadows of the summerhouse, hoping he might turn aside without observing

her, since, from all accounts, Garth Trent was hardly the type of man to welcome a trespasser upon his

But he came straight on towards her, and an instant later she knew that her presence was discovered, for he

stopped abruptly and peered through the driving rain in the direction of the summerhouse. Then, quickening

his steps, he rapidly covered the intervening space and halted on the threshold of the shelter.

"What the devil" he began, then paused and stared down at her with an odd glint of amusement in his

Once again Sara was conscious of the extraordinary intensity of his regard, and now, as a sudden ragged

gleam of sunlight pierced the clouds, falling athwart his face, she realized what it was that induced it. In both

eyes the clear hazel of the iris was broken by a tiny, irregularly shaped patch of vivid blue, close to the pupil,

and its effect was to give that curious depth and intentness of expression which Molly had tried to describe

when she had said that Garth Trent's were the kind of eyes which "make you jump if he looked at you

Sara almost jumped now; then, supported by her indignant recollection of the man's churlishness on a former

He continued to regard her with that lurking suggestion of amusement at the back of his eyes, and she was

annoyed to feel herself flushing uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny. At last he spoke again.

"Exactly." He bowed ironically. "Perhaps you would oblige me by considering it?" And he drew politely

Sara cast a dismayed glance at the rain, which was still descending in torrents. Then she turned to him

"Do you mean that you're going to insist on my starting out in this storm?" she demanded.

"Don't you know that you've no right to be here at allthat you're trespassing?" he parried coolly.

"Of course I know it! But I didn't expect that any one in the world would object to my trespassing in the

"You must not judge me by other people," he replied composedly. "I am notlike them."

"And your tone implies 'thanks be,' " he supplemented with a faint smile. "Oh, well," he went on

ungraciously, "stay if you likeso long as you don't expect me to stay with you."

Sara hastily disclaimed any such desire, and, lifting his cap, he turned and strode away into the rain.

Another ten minutes crawled by, and still the rain came down as persistently as though it intended never to

cease again. Sara fidgeted, and walked across impatiently to the open front of the summerhouse, staring up

moodily at the heavy clouds. They showed no signs of breaking, and she was just about to resume her weary

waiting on the seat within the shelter, when quick steps sounded to her left, and Garth Trent reappeared,

"It's going to rain for a good two hours yet," he said abruptly. "You'd better come up to the house."

Sara gazed at him in silent amazement; the invitation was so totally unexpected that for the moment she had

"Unless," he added sneeringly, misinterpreting her silence, "you're afraid of the proprieties?"

"I'm far more afraid of taking cold," she replied promptly, preparing to evacuate the summerhouse.

"Here, put this on," he said gruffly, holding out the coat he had brought with him. "There's no object in

He helped her into the coat, buttoning it carefully under her chin, his dexterous movements and quiet

solicitude contrasting curiously with the detachment of his manner whilst performing these small services. He

was so altogether businesslike and unconcerned that Sara felt not unlike a child being dressed by a

conscientious but entirely disinterested nurse. When he had fastened the last button of the long coat, which

"Keep close to me, please," he said briefly, nor did he volunteer any further remark until they had

accomplished the journey to the house, and were standing together in the oldfashioned hall which evidently

Here Trent relieved her of the coat, and while she stood warming her feet at the huge logfire, blazing

halfway up the chimney, he rang for his servant and issued orders for tea to be brought, as composedly as

though visitors of the feminine persuasion were a matter of everyday occurrence.

Sara, catching a glimpse of Judson's almost petrified face of astonishment as he retreated to carry out his

master's instructions, and with a vivid recollection of her last encounter with him, almost laughed out loud.

"Please sit down," said Trent. "And"with a glance towards her feet "you had better take off those wet

There was something in his curt manner of giving ordersrather as though he were a drillsergeant, Sara

reflectedthat aroused her to opposition. She held out her feet towards the blaze of the fire.

As she spoke, she glanced up and encountered a sudden flash in his eyes like the keen flicker of a

swordblade. Without vouchsafing any answer, he knelt down beside her and began to unlace her shoes,

finally drawing them off and laying them sole upwards, in front of the fire to dry. Then he passed his hand

"Wringing wet!" he remarked curtly. "Those silk absurdities must come off as well."

He looked at her, again with that glint of mocking amusement with which he had first greeted her presence in

He gave a short laugh, almost as though he could not help himself, and, with a shrug of his shoulders, turned

Left alone, Sara glanced about her in some surprise at the evidences of a cultivated taste and love of beauty

which the room supplied. It was not quite the sort of abode she would have associated with the grim,

The oldfashioned note, struck by the huge oaken beams supporting the ceiling and by the open hearth, had

been retained throughout, and every detailthe blue willowpattern china on the old oak dresser, the dimly

lustrous pewter perched upon the chimneypiece, the silver candlesconces thrusting out curved, gleaming

arms from the paneled wallswas exquisite of its kind. It reminded her of the old hall at Barrow, where she

The place had a welltended air, too, and Sara, who waged daily war against the slovenly shabbiness

prevalent at Sunnyside, was all at once sensible of how desperately she had missed the quiet perfection of the

service at Barrow. The nostalgia for her old homethe unquenchable, homesick longing for the place that

Wishing she had never come to this house, which had so stirred old memories, she got up restlessly, driven

"Sit down again," he commanded. "There"gravely depositing a towel and a pair of men's woolen socks on

He moved quickly away towards the window and remained there, with his back turned studiously towards

her, while she obeyed his instructions. When she had hung two very damp black silk stockings on the

firedogs to dry, she flung a somewhat irritated glance at him over her shoulder.

He came, and stood staring down at the two woolly socks protruding from beneath the short, tweed skirt. The

"They're several sizes too large," he observed. "Odd creatures you women are," he went on suddenly, after a

brief silence. "You shy wildly at the idea of letting a man see the foot God gave you, but you've no scruples

at all about letting any one see the selfishness that the devil's put into your hearts."

He spoke with a kind of savage contempt; it was as though the speech were tinged with some bitter personal

"It's wiser not, probably," he retorted disagreeably, and at that moment Judson came into the room and began

"Put it over there," directed Trent sharply, indicating with a gesture that the table should be placed near his

guest, and Judson, his face manifesting rather more surprise than is compatible with the wooden mask

When he had readjusted the position of the teatable, he moved quietly about the room, drawing the curtains

and lighting the candles in their silver sconces, so that little pools of yellow light splashed down on to the

smooth surface of the oak floorwaxed and polished till it gleamed like black ivory.

As he withdrew unobtrusively towards the door, Trent tossed him a further order.

"I shall want the car round in a couple of hoursat six," he said, and smiled straight into Sara's startled eyes.

She handed him his cup and poured out another for herself. Then she said lightly:

He cast an expressive glance towards the windows, where the rain could be heard beating relentlessly against

"Otherwise," she said tentatively, "I am going to stay here, whether I will or no?"

"Yes. It's my birthday, and I'm proposing to make myself a present of an hour or two of your society," he

Sara regarded him with curiosity. He had been openly displeased to find her trespassing on his estatewhich

was only what current report would have led her to expectyet now he was evincing a desire for her

company, and, in addition, a very determined intention to secure it. The man was an enigma!

"I'm surprised," she said lightly. "I gathered from a recent remark of yours that you didn't think too highly of

"Perhaps I have a fancy to drop back for a brief space into the life I have renounced," he suggested

"Entirelyas a rule." If, for an instant, the faintest of smiles modified the grim closing of his lips, Sara failed

The cold detachment of his answer irritated her. It was as though he intended to remain, hermitlike, within

his shell, and she had a suspicion that behind this barricade he was laughing at her for her ineffectual attempts

"I suppose some woman didn't fall into your arms just when you wanted her to?" she hazarded.

She had not calculated the result of this thrust. His eyes blazed for a moment. Then, a shade of contempt

The snub was unmistakable, and Sara's cheeks burned. She felt heartily ashamed of herself, and yet,

incongruously, she was half inclined to lay the blame for her impertinent speech on his shoulders. He had

almost challenged her to deal a blow that should crack that impervious shell of his.

She glanced across at him beneath her lashes, and in an instant all thought of personal dignity was wiped out

by the look of profound pain that she surprised in his face. Her shrewd question, uttered almost unthinkingly

She could only assume that he had not heard her lowvoiced apology, for, when he turned to her again, he

"Try some of these little hot cakes," he said, tendering a plateful. "They are quite one of Mrs. Judson's

With amazing swiftness he had reassumed his mask. The bright, hazel eyes were entirely free from any hint

of pain, and his voice held nothing more than conventional politeness. Sara meekly accepted one of the cakes

"I do smoke," she admitted. "But"the confession came with a rush, and she did not quite know what

"I was sure of it," he responded in amused tones. "But now"striking a match and holding it for her to light

her cigarette"you will smoke because you really like it, and because it would be a friendly action and

"It is a very charming prison," she said, contemplating the harmony of the room with satisfied eyes.

She looked at him in surprise. What could it matter to him whether she liked it or not?

"Why, of course, I like it," she replied. "Who wouldn't? You see," she added a little wistfully, "I have no

"Is the house in which I live. One wants more than a few sticks of furniture to make a home."

Sara was struck by the intense bitterness in his tone. Truly this man, with his lightning changes from boorish

incivility to wholehearted hospitality, from apparently impenetrable reserve to an almost desperate

She hastily steered the conversation towards a less dangerous channel, and gradually they drifted into the

discussion of art and music; and Sara, not without some inward trepidationremembering Molly's

"It was surely you I herd?" she queried a trifle hesitatingly. "You were playing some Russian music that I

knew. Your man ordered me off the premises"smiling a little"so I didn't hear as much as I should have

Like the hall they had just quitted, it was pleasantly illumined by candles in silver sconces, and had evidently

been arranged to serve exclusively as a musicroom, for it contained practically no furniture beyond a couple

of chairs, and a beautiful mahogany cabinet, of which the doors stood open, revealing sliding shelves

A grand piano was so placed that the light from either window or candles would fall comfortably upon the

Trent opened the case, and, lifting the violin from is cushiony bed of padded satin, fingered it caressingly.

"Can you read accompaniments?" he asked, flashing the question at her with his usual abruptness.

"Yes." Sara's answer came simply, minus the mockmodest tag: "A little," or "I'll do my best," which most

It is one of the mysteries of convention why, when you are perfectly aware that you can do a thing, and do it

well, you are expected to depreciate your capability under penalty of being accounted overburdened with

"Good." Trent pulled out an armful of music from the cabinet and looked through it rapidly.

"We'll have some of these." ("These" being several suites for violin and piano.)

Sara's lips twitched. He was testing her rather highly, since the pianoforte score of the suites in question was

by no means easy. But, thanks to the wisdom of Patrick Lovell, who had seen to it that she studied under one

of the finest masters of the day, she was not a musician by temperament alone, but had also a surprisingly

At the close of the second suite, Trent turned to her enthusiastically, his face aglow. For the moment he was

no longer the hermit, aloof and enigmatical, but an eager comrade, spontaneously appealing to a congenial

"That went splendidly, didn't it?" he exclaimed. "The pianoforte score is a pretty stiff one, but I was

sure"smilingly"from the downright way you answered my question about accompaniments, that you'd

"I didn't think it necessary to make any conventional professions of modestyto you," she said. "You

"No. Nothing I say can make things either better or worse for me, so I have at least gained freedom from the

"Compensations for what?" The question escaped her almost before she was aware, and she waited for the

snub which she felt would inevitably follow her second indiscretion that afternoon.

"Oh, no, we're not always given a choice, you know. This world isn't a kind of sublimated children's party."

"I think," she said gravely, "we always get back out of life just what we put into it."

"That's a charming doctrine, but I'm afraid I can't subscribe to it. I put inall my capital. And I've drawn a

His tone implied a kind of strange, numb acceptance of an inimical destiny, and Sara was conscious of a rush

of intense pity towards this man whose implacably cynical outlook manifested itself in almost every word he

uttered. It was no mere pose on his partof that she felt assuredbut something ingrained, grafted on to his

He smiled at hera sudden, rare smile of extraordinary sweetness. Her intention was so unmistakableso

touchingly ingenious, as are all youth's attempts to heal a bitterness that lies beyond its ken.

"There are no more lucky dips left in life's tub for me, I'm afraid," he said gently.

"Unfortunately, I've no longer any right to dip my head into the tub. Even if I chanced to draw a prizeI

The abrupt alteration in his manner took her by surprise. All at once, he seemed to have retreated into his

"I think," he went on, tranquilly ignoring the mixture of chagrin and amazement in her face, "I think I hear

the car coming round. You had better put on your shoes and stockings againthey'll be dry nowand then

Sara felt as though she had been suddenly relegated to a position of utter unimportance. He was showing her

that, as far as he was concerned, she was a person of not the slightest consequence, treating her like an

inquisitive child. Their recent conversation, during which his mantle of reserve had slipped a little aside, the

music they had shared, when for a brief time they had walked together in the pleasant paths of mutual

understanding, all seemed to have receded an immense distance away. As she took her place in the car, she

could almost have believed that the incidents of the afternoon were a dream, and nothing more.

Trent sat silently beside her, his attention apparently concentrated on the driving of the car. Once he asked

her if she were warm enough, and, upon her replying in the affirmative, lapsed again into silence.

Gaining security from his abstraction, Sara ventured to steal a side glance at his face. It was a curiously

contradictory face, hard and bitterlooking, yet the reckless mouth curved sensitively at the corners, and the

tolerant, humorous lines about the eyes seemed to combat the impression of almost brutal force conveyed by

Always acutely sensible of temperament, Sara felt as though the man beside her might be capable of any

extreme of action. Whatever decision he might adopt over any given matter, he would hold by it, come what

may, and she was aware of an odd reflex consciousness of feminine inadequacy. To influence Garth Trent

against his convictions would be like trying to deflect the course of a river by laying a straw across its track.

The primitive woman in her thrilled a little, responsively, and she wondered whether or no her sex had played

much part in his life. He was a womanhaterso Molly had told heryet Sara could imagine him in a very

different role. Of one thing she was surethat the woman who was loved by Garth Trent would anchor in no

placid backwater. Life, for her, would hold something breathless, vital, exultant . . .

The ironical voice broke sharply into the midst of her fugitive thoughts, and Sara jumped violently, flushing

scarlet as she found Trent's eyes surveying her with a quietly quizzical expression.

"Where to place mewhether among the sheep or the goats. You were dissecting my character, weren't

He waited for an answer, but Sara maintained an embarrassed silence. He had divined the subject of her

"The decision has gone against me, I see. Well, I'm not surprised. I've certainly treated you with a rather

roughandready kind of courtesy. You must try to pardon me. A hermit gets little practice at entertaining

"In Monkshaven? Are you trying to suggest that I should ingratiate myself with the leading lights of local

"Perhaps you've not been here long enough yet to discover that the amiable inhabitants of Monkshaven look

upon me as a sort of cross between a madman and a criminal who has eluded justice."

"Oh, mine, I suppose"quickly. "But it doesn't mattersince I regard them as a set of harmless,

conventional fools. No, thank you, I've no intention of making friends with the people of Monkshaven."

"They're not all conventional. Some of them are rather interesting Mrs. Maynard, for instance, and the

"It's very bad for you to cut yourself off from the rest of the world, as you do," persisted Sara sagely.

He was silent for a while, his eyes intent on the strip of road that stretched in front of him, and when he spoke

again it was to draw her attention to the effect of the cloud shadows moving across the sea, exactly as though

She began to recognize as a trick of his this abrupt method of terminating a conversation that for some reason

did not please him. It was as conclusive as when the man at the other end of the 'phone suddenly "rings off"

By this time they had reached the steep hill that approached directly to the Selwyns' house, and a couple of

"You have nothing to thank me for," he said, curtly dismissing her expression of thanks as they stood

together on the path. "It is I who should be grateful to you. My opportunities of social intercourse"

"Do you wish me to?" he asked swiftly, and his intent eyes sought her face with a sudden hawklike glance.

Her own eyes fell. She was conscious, all at once, of an inexplicable agitation, a tremulous confusion that

But he still waited for his answer, and, at last, with an effort she mastered the nervousness that had seized her.

It had not taken Sara very long to cut a niche for herself in the household at Sunnyside. In a dwelling where

the master of the house was away the greater part of the day, the mistress a chronic invalid, and the daughter

a beautiful young thing whose mind was intent upon "colour" and "atmosphere," and altogether hazy

concerning the practical necessities of housekeeping, the advent of any one possessing even half Sara's

Dick Selwyn, pushed to the uttermost limits of his strength by the demands of his wide practice and by the

nervous strain of combating his wife's incessant fretfulness, quickly learned to turn to Sara for that

He had, of course, never again discussed with her his wife's incurable selfabsorption, as on the day of her

arrival, when the painful scene created by Mrs. Selwyn had practically forced him into some sort of

explanation, but Sara's quick grasp of the situation had infinitely simplified matters, and by devoting a

considerable amount of her own time to the entertainment of the captious invalid, and thus keeping her in a

good humour, she contrived to save Selwyn many a bad half hour of recrimination and complaint.

Sara was essentially a good "comrade," as Patrick Lovell had recognized in the old days at Barrow Court, and

instinctively Selwyn came to share with her the pinprick worries that dog a man's footsteps in this vale of

woe, learning to laugh at them; and even his apprehensions concerning Molly's ultimate development and

Molly herself seemed to float through life like a big, beautiful moth, sailing serenely along, and now and then

blundering into things, but never learning by experience the dangers of such blunders. One day, in the course

of her inconsequent path through life, she would probably flutter too near the attractive blaze of some

perilous fire, just as a moth flies against the flame of a candle and singes its frail, soft wings in the process.

It was of this that Sara was inwardly afraid, realizing, perhaps more clearly than the girl's overworked and

Of late, Molly had manifested a certain moodiness and irritability very unlike her usual facile sweetness of

disposition, and Sara was somewhat nonplussed to account for it. Finally, she approached the matter by way

Molly was hunched up in the biggest and shabbiest armchair by the fire, smoking innumerable cigarettes and

flinging them away half finished. At Sara's question, she looked up with a shade of defiance in her eyes.

"I don't know, I'm sure," responded Sara goodhumouredly. "But I'm pretty certain there is something. Come,

Molly sighed, smoked furiously for a moment, and then tossed her cigarette into the fire.

"Well, yes," she admitted at last. "There issomething wrong." She rose and stood looking across at Sara

"Twenty pounds!" This was certainly a large sum for Mollywhose annual dress allowance totaled very

little moreto be in debt. "What on earth have you been up to? Buying a new trousseau? Where do you owe

"No. Idon't owe it to a shop at all. It'sit's a bridge debt!" The confession came out rather hurriedly.

"But, Molly, you little fool, you've no business to be playing bridge. Where have you been playing?"

"Oh, we play sometimes at the studioswhen the light's too bad to go on painting, you know"airily.

Sara frowned. She knew that Molly was one of the youngest members of this club of rather irresponsible and

happygolucky folk, and privately considered that Selwyn had made a great mistake in ever allowing her to

join it. It embodied, as she had discovered by inquiry, some of the most rapid elements of Oldhampton's

society, and was, moreover, open to receive as temporary members artists who come from other parts of the

country to paint in the neighbourhood. More than one wellknown name had figured in the temporary

membership list, and, in addition, the name of certain dilettanti to whom the freedom from convention of the

"I don't understand," said Sara slowly, "how they let you go on playing until you owed twenty pounds. Don't

Molly flushed a bewitching rosecolour and appealed with big, pathetic eyes. It was difficult to be

'No. I know I hadn't. But, don't you see, I thought I should be sure to win it all back? I couldn't ask Dad for it.

Every penny he can spare goes on something that mother can't possibly do without," added the girl with

The latter fact was incontrovertible, and Sara remained silent. In her own mind she regarded Mrs. Selwyn as a

species of vampire, sucking out all that was good, and sweet, and wholesome from the lives of those about

hereven that of her own daughter. Did the woman realize, she wondered, that instead of being the help all

mothers were sent into the world to be, she was nothing but a hindrance and a stumbling block?

"I don't know what to do, I simply don't." Molly's humble, dejected tones broke through the current of Sara's

thoughts. "You see, the worst of it is"she blushed even more bewitchingly than before"that I owe it to a

Two fine lines drew themselves between Sara's level brows. This was worse than she had imagined.

"He'she's an artistby choice. I mean," stumbled Molly, "that he's quite well offhe only paints for

pleasure. He often runs down from town for a month or two at a time and takes out a temporary membership

"Well, he must be paid back at once. At once, do you understand? I will give you the twenty poundsyou're

In an instant Molly's cares had slipped from her shoulders, and she beamed across at her deliverer with the

"Wait a moment," continued Sara firmly. "You must never borrow from Mr. Kentor any one elseagain."

"Oh, I won't! Indeed, I won't!" Molly was fervent in her assurances. "I've been wretched over this.

Although"brightening"Lester Kent was really most awfully nice about it. He said it didn't matter one

"How old? Oh"vaguely"thirtyfiveforty, perhaps. I really don't know. Somehow he's not the sort of

"Anyway, he's old enough to know better than to be lending you money to play bridge with," commented

"Oh, I couldn't!" coaxingly. "We play for very small stakesas a rule. But it is amusing, Sara. And, you

know this place is as dull as ditchwater unless one does something. But I won't get into debt againI really

Molly had all the caressing charm of a nice kitten, and now that the pressing matter of her indebtedness to

Lester Kent was settled, she relapsed into her usual tranquil, happygolucky self. She rubbed her cheek

"You are a pet angel, Sara, my own," she said. "I'm so glad you adopted us. Now I can go to the Herricks'

teaparty this afternoon without having that twenty pounds nagging at the back of my mind all the time. I

suppose"glancing at the clock"it's time we put on our glad rags. The Lavender Lady said she expected

Halfanhour later, Molly reappeared, looking quite impossibly lovely in a frock of the cheapest kind of

material, "run up" by the local dressmaker, and very evidently with no other thought "at the back of her

The teaparty was a small one, commensurate with the size of the rooms at Rose Cottage, and included only

As she entered the room, he turned quietly from the window where he had been standing looking out at the

"Mr. Trent"Miss Lavinia fluttered forward"let me introduce you to Miss Tennant."

The Lavender Lady's pretty, faded blue eyes beamed benevolently on him. She was so very glad that "that

poor, lonely fellow at Far End" had at last been induced to desert the solitary fastnesses of Monk's Cliff, but

as she was simply terrified at the prospect of entertaining him herselfand Audrey Maynard seemed already

fully occupied, chatting with Milesshe was only too thankful to turn him across to Sara's competent hands.

"We've met before, Miss Lavinia," said Trent, and over her head his hazel eyes met Sara's with a gamin

"Oh, I didn't know." Little Miss Lavinia gazed in a puzzled fashion from one to the other of her guests. "Sara,

"Dear Lavender Ladywe didn't. Neither of us would have dared to insult Mr. Trent by doing anything so

conventional." The black eyes flashed back defiance at the hazel ones. "I got caught in a storm on the Monk's

Cliff, and Mr. Trentmuch against his will, I'm certain" maliciously"offered me shelter."

"Now that was kind of him. I'm sure Sara must have been most grateful to you." And the kind old face smiled

up into Trent's dark, bitter one so simply and sincerely that it seemed as though, for the moment, some of the

bitterness melted away. Not even so confirmed a misanthrope as the hermit of Far End could have entirely

resisted the Lavender Lady, with her serene aroma of an oldworld courtesy and grace long since departed

She moved away to the teatable, leaving Trent and Sara standing together in the bay of the window.

"So you are overcoming your distaste for visiting," said Sara a little nervously. "I didn't expect to meet you

"Are you suggesting I invited you to meet me here?" she responded, willfully misinterpreting him. She shook

her read regretfully. "You must have misunderstood me. I should never have imposed such a strain on your

"I'm glad," she answered heartily. "It's a devastating feeling! You made me feel just the same the day I

"Won't youpleasetry to forget that day in the train?" he said quickly. "I behaved like a bore. I'm afraid

I've no real excuse to offer, except that I'd been reminded of something that happened long agoand I

"To enjoy the memory in solitude?" hazarded Sara flippantly. She was still nervous and talking rather at

"Hardly that," he said shortly, and Sara knew that somehow she had again inadvertently laid her hand upon

"Then, as the train doesn't hold pleasant memories for either of us, let's forget it," she suggested gently.

"Do you know what that implies?" he asked. "It implies that you are willing to be friends. Do you mean

"Thank you," he said curtly, and then Audrey Maynard's gay voice broke across the tension of the moment.

"Mr. Trent, I simply cannot allow Sara to monopolize you any longer. Now that we have succeeded in

dragging the hermit out of his shell, we all want a share of his society, please."

Trent turned instantly, and Sara slipped across the room and took the place Audrey had vacated by Miles's

couch. He greeted her coming with a smile, but there were shadows of fatigue beneath his eyes, and his lips

"This is a lazy way to receive visitors, isn't it?" he said apologetically. "But my game leg's given out today,

"You oughtn't to be at the 'party' at all," she said. "You look far too tired to be bothered with a parcel of

"Do you know," he whispered humorously, "that, although you're quite the four nicest women I know, the

shameful truth is that I'm really here on behalf of the one man! I met him yesterday in the town and booked

him for this afternoon, and, having at last dislodged him from his lone pinnacle, I hadn't the heart to leave

"I suppose"the toe of Sara's narrow foot was busily tracing a pattern on the carpet"I suppose you don't

"No, I don't," he answered. "But I'd wager it's for some better reason than people give him credit for. Or it

may be merely a preference for his own society. Anyway, it is no business of ours." Then, swiftly softening

the suggestion of reproof contained in his last sentence, he added: "Don't encourage me to gossip, Sara. When

a man's tied by the leg, as I am, it's all he can do to curb a tendency towards tattling village scandal like some

It was evident that the presence of visitors was inflicting a considerable strain on Herrick's endurance, and, as

Molly expressed her intention of accompanying Mrs. Maynard back to Greenacresthe beautiful house

which the latter had had built to her own design, overlooking the bayin order to inspect the pretty widow's

She nodded permission, and they set off through the highhedged lane, Sara hurrying along at top speed.

"Are you catching a train?" he inquired mildly. "Or is it only that you want to be rid of my company in the

She coloured, moderating her pace with an effort. Once again the odd nervousness engendered by his

presence had descended on her. It was as though something in the man's dominating personality strung all her

nerves to a high tension of consciousness, and she felt herself overwhelmingly sensible of his proximity.

"Thenif you're not in any hurry to get homewill you let me take you round by Crabtree Moor? It's part

Sara acquiesced, and, Trent, having speedily transacted the little matter of business with his tenant, they made

their way across a stretch of wild moorland which intersected the cultivated fields lying on either hand.

In the dusk of the evening, with the wan light of the early moon deepening the shadows and transforming the

clumps of furze into strange, unrecognizable shapes of darkness, it was an eerie enough place. Sara shivered a

little, instinctively moving closer to her companion. And then, as they rounded a furzecrowned hummock,

out of the hazy twilight, loping along on swift, padding feet, emerged the figure of a man.

With a muttered curse he swerved aside, but Trent's arm shot out, and, catching him by the shoulder, he

"I can, but I'm not going to," said Trent coolly. "At least, not till you've explained your presence here. This is

"No?" Trent passed his free hand swiftly down the fellow's body, feeling the bulge of his coat. "Then what's

the meaning of those rabbits sticking out under your coat? Now, look here, my man, I know you. You're Jim

Brady, and it's not the first, nor the second, time I've caught you poaching on my land. But it's the last.

"Look here, sir, pass it over this time. My missus is ill. She's mortal bad, God's truth she is, and haven't eaten

nothing this three days past. An' I thought mebbe a bit o' stewed rabbit 'ud tempt 'er."

"Pshaw!" Trent was beginning contemptuously, when Sara leaned forward, peering into the poacher's face.

Ne'erdowell as he was, the mere fact that he came from Fallowdene warmed her heart towards him.

"Yes, miss, that's so," he answered readily. "And you're the young lady what used to live at Barrow Court."

" 'Bout as well as you do, sir," volunteered Brady with an impudent grin. "Catched me poachin' one morning.

Fired me gun at 'er, too, I did, to frighten 'er," he continued reminiscently. "And she never blinked. You're a

"It's my native village, miss, Monks'aven is. But I didn't think 'twas too 'healthy for me down here, back

along"grinning"so I shifted to Fallowdene, where me grandmother lives. I came back here to marry

Bessie Windrake' she've stuck to me like a straight 'un. But I didn't mean to get collared poachin' again. Me

and Bess was goin' to live respectable. 'Twas her bein' ill and me out of work w'at did it."

"Not 'im, miss, 'e won't," broke in Brady. " 'E's not the soft'earted kind, isn't Mr. Trent."

"You won't mend matters by impudence, Brady," he said sharply. "Get along now"releasing his hold of the

Brady shot away into the darkness like an arrow, probably chortling to himself that his captor had omitted to

relieve him of the brace of rabbits he had poached; and Sara, turning again to Trent, renewed her plea for

"Like ninetenths of your sex, you are fiercely Tory in theory and a rank socialist in practice," he grumbled.

"Well, I'm not sure that that isn't a very good working basis to go on," she retorted.

As they stood in the porch at Sunnyside, she made yet one more effort to smooth matters over for the

evildoer, but Trent's face still showed unrelenting in the light that streamed out through the open doorway.

"Ask me something else," he said. "I would do anything to please you, Sara, except"with a sudden tense

decision"except interfere with the course of justice. Let every man pay the penalty for his own sin."

"Hard?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps it is. But"grimly"it's the only creed I believe in.

Goodnight"he held out his hand abruptly. "I'm sorry I can't do as you ask about Jim Brady."

Before Sara could reply, he was striding away down the path, and a minute later the darkness had hidden him

Sara's conviction that Garth Trent would not be easily turned from any decision that he might take had been

Notwithstanding the fact that the man's story of his wife's illness proved to be perfectly genuine, Trent

persisted that he must take his punishment, and all that Sara could do by way of mitigation was to promise

"There'll be no opshun of a fine, miss," he told her. "I've abeen up before the gen'lemen too many

times"grinning. "But if so be you'd give an eye to Bessie here, whiles I'm in quod, I'd take it very kind of

His forecast summed up the situation with lamentable accuracy. No option of a fine was given, and during the

brief space that the prison doors closed upon him, Sara saw to the welfare of his invalid wife, thereby

When he again found himself at liberty, she induced the frankly unwilling proprietor of the Cliff Hotelthe

only hotel of any pretension to which Monkshaven could lay claimto take him into his employment as an

oddjob man. How she accomplished this feat it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she did

accomplish it, and perhaps Jane Crab delved to the root of the matter in the terse comment which the

circumstances elicited from her: "Miss Tennant has a way with her that 'ud make they stone sphinxes gallop

Apparently, however, the sphinx of Far End was compounded of even more adamantine substance than his

feminine prototype, for he exhibited a mulish aversion to budging an inchmuch less gallopingin the

The two quarreled vehemently over the matter, and a glacial atmosphere of hostility prevailed between them

Garth, undeniably the victor, was the first to open peace negotiations, and a few days subsequent to Brady's

She was preoccupied with numerous small, unnecessary commissions to be executed for Mrs. Selwyn at

halfadozen different shops, and she would have passed him by with a frosty little bow had he not halted in

"Goodmorning!" he said, blithely disregarding the coolness of his reception. "Am I still in disgrace? Brady's

Overhead, the sun was shining gloriously in an azure sky flecked with little bunchy white clouds like floating

pieces of cottonwool, while an April breeze, fragrant of budding leaf and blossom, rollicked up the street. It

seemed almost as though the frolicsome atmosphere of spring had permeated even the shell of the hermit and

got into his system, for there was something incorrigibly boyish and youthful about him this morning. His

"Restored to what?" asked Sara, trying to resist the contagion of his good humour.

"Oh, well"a faint shadow dimmed the sparkle in his eyes"to the same old place I held before our

For a moment she hesitated. He had pitted his will against hers and won, hands down, and she felt distinctly

resentful. But she knew that in a strange, unforeseen way their quarrel had hurt her inexplicably. She had

hated meeting the cool, aloof expression of his eyes, and now, urged by some emotion of which she was, as

"That's good," he said contentedly. "And you might just as well give in now as later," he added, smiling.

"I know I amI glory in it! But now, just to show that you really do mean to be friends again, will you let

me row you across to Devil's Hood Island this afternoon? You told me once that you wanted to go there."

Devil's Hood Island was a chip off the mainland which had managed to keep its head above water when the

gradually encroaching sea had stolen yet another mile from the coast. Sandy dunes, patched here and there

with clumps of coarse, straggling rushes, sloped upward from the rockstrewn shore to a big crag that

crowned its further sidea curious natural formation which had given the island its name.

It was shaped like a great overhanging hood, out of which, crudely suggested by the configuration of the

rock, peered a diabolical face, weatherworn to the smoothness of polished marble.

April was still doing her best to please, with blue skies and soft fragrant airs, when Garth gave a final

pushoff to the Betsy Anne, and bent to his oars as she skimmed out over the top of the waves with her nose

Sara, comfortably ensconced amid a nest of cushions in the stern of the boat, pointed to a squareshaped

"That? Oh, that's our tea. You didn't imagine I was going to starve you, did you? I think we shall find that

"What a thoughtful man you are!" she said gaily. "Fancy a hermit remembering a woman's crucial need of

"Don't credit me with too much selfeffacement!" he grinned. "I enjoyed the last occasion when you were my

"Still, even deducting for the selfish motive, you're progressing," she answered. "I see you developing into

"There is no question of such a catastrophe occurring. I've told you that societyas suchand I have

His face clouded over, and for a while he sculled in silence, driving the Betsy Anne through the blue water

Sara was vividly conscious of the suggestion of supple strength conveyed by the rippling play of muscle

beneath the white skin of his arms, bared to the elbow, and by the pliant swing of his body to each sure,

She recollected that one of her earliest impressions concerning him had been of the sheer force of the

manthe lithe, flexible strength like that of tempered steeland she wondered whether this were entirely

due to his magnificent physique or owed its impulse, in part, to some mental quality in him. Her eyes

travelled reflectively to the lean, squarejawed face, with its sensitive, bitterlooking mouth and its fine

modeling of brow and temple, as though seeking there the answer to her questionings, and with a sudden,

intuitive instinct of reliance, she felt that behind all his cynicism and surface hardness, there lay a quiet, sure

Yet he always spoke as though in some way his life had been a failure as though he had met, and been

Sara found it difficult to associate the words failure and defeat with her knowledge of his dominating

personality and force of will, and the natural curiosity which had been aroused in her mind by his strange

mode of life, with its deliberate isolation, and by the aroma of mystery which seemed to cling about him,

Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown, as she inwardly sought for some explanation of the many

inconsistencies she had encountered even in the short time that she had known him.

His abrupt alterations from reticence to unreserved; his avowed dislike of women and the contradictory

enjoyment which he seemed to find in her society; his love of music and of beautiful surroundings alike

indicative of a cultivated appreciation and experience of the good things of this worldand the solitary,

hermitlike existence which he yet chose to leadall these incongruities of temperament and habit wove

Garth's voice recalled her abruptly from her musings to find that the Betsy Anne was swaying gently

"But how civilized!" she exclaimed. "One does not expect to find a jetty on a desertisland."

"Devil's Hood is far from being a desert island in the summer, when the tourists come this way. They swarm

Whilst he was speaking, he had made fast the painter, and he now stepped out on to the landingstage. Sara

prepared to follow him. For a moment she stood poised with one foot on the gunwale of the boat, then, as an

incoming wave drove the little skiff suddenly against the wooden supports of the jetty, she staggered, lost her

But even as she fell, Garth's arms closed round her like steel bars, and she felt herself lifted clean up from the

rocking boat on to the landingstage. For an instant she knew that she rested a dead weight against his breast;

"All right?" he queried, steadying her with his hand beneath her arm. "That was a near shave."

His queer hazel eyes were curiously bright, and Sara, meeting their gaze, felt her face flame scarlet.

"Quite, thanks," she said a little breathlessly, adding: "You must be very strong."

She moved her arm as though trying to free it from his clasp, and he released it instantly. But his face was

rather white as he knelt down to lift out the teabasket, and he, too, was breathing quickly.

Somewhat silently they made their way up the sandy slope that stretched ahead of them, and presently, as

they mounted the last rise, the malignant, distorted face beneath the Devil's Hood leaped into view,

"What a perfectly horrible head!" exclaimed Sara, gazing at it aghast. "It's like a nightmare of some kind."

"Yes, it's not pretty," admitted Garth. "The mouth has a sort of malevolent leer, hasn't it?"

"It's always a hotly debated point whether the devil and his hood are purely the work of nature or not. My

own impression is that to a certain extent they are, but that someonecenturies agobeing struck by the

resemblance of the rock to a human face, added a few touches to complete the picture."

"Well, whoever did it must have had a bizarre imagination to perpetuate such a thing."

"The handiworkif handiwork it isis attributed to Friar Anselmo the Spanish monk who broke his

"You don't meant to say no one has enlightened you as to the gentleman whose exploit gave the town its

"No. I'm afraid my education as far as local history is concerned has been shamefully neglected. Do make

"Very well, I will. I always have a kind of fellowfeeling for Friar Anselmo. But I propose we investigate the

They established themselves beneath the shelter of a big boulder, Garth first spreading a rug which he had

brought from the boat for Sara to sit on. Then he unstrapped the teabasket, and it became evident either that

Mrs. Judson had a genius for assembling together the most fascinating little cakes and savoury sandwiches,

accompanied by fragrant tea, hot from a thermos flask, or else that she had acted under instructions from

some one to whom the cult of afternoon tea as sublimated by Rumpelmayer was not an unknown quantity.

"For a confirmed misogynist," she observed later on, when, the feast over, he was repacking the basket, "you

"It's a case of cause and effect. A misogynist"caustically"is the product of a very complete

"Do you think," she said, speaking a little indignantly, "that it is quite nice of you to invite me out to a picnic

"No, I don't," he acknowledged bluntly. "It's making you pay some one else's bill." His lean brown hand

The abrupt intensity of his manner was out of all proportion to the merely surface friction of the moment; and

Sara, sensing something deeper and of more significance behind it, hurriedly switched the conversation into a

"Very well," she said lightly, disengaging her hand. "I'll forgive you, and you shall tell me about Friar

Anselmo." She lifted her eyes to the leering, sinister face that protruded from the Devil's Hood. "As,

presumably, from his choice of a profession, he, too, had no love for women, you ought to enjoy telling his

"As a matter of fact, it was love o' women that was Anselmo's undoing," he said. "In spite of his vows, he fell

in lovewith a very beautiful Spanish lady, and to make matters worse, if that were possible, the lady was

possessed of a typically jealous Spanish husband, who, on discovering how the land lay, killed his wife, and

would have killed Anselmo as well, but that he escaped to England. The vessel on which he sailed was

wrecked at the foot of what has been called, ever since, the Monk's Cliff; but Anselmo himself succeeded in

swimming ashore, and spent the remainder of his life at Monkshaven, doing penance for the mistakes of his

"He chose a charming place to repent in," said Sara, her eyes wandering to the distant bay, where the quaint

little town straggled picturesquely up the hill that sloped away from the coast.

"Yes," responded Garth slowly, "it's not a bad placeto repent in. . . . It would be a better place stillto

There was a brooding melancholy in his tones, and Sara, hearing it, spoke very gently.

"I?" He laughed hardly. "No! Those gifts of the gods are not for such as I. The husks are my portion. If it

were not so"his voice deepened to a sudden urgent note that moved her strangely"if it were not so"

As though in spite of himself, his arms moved gropingly towards her. Then, with a muttered exclamation, he

"Let us go back," he said abruptly, and Sara, shaken by his vehemence, rose obediently, and they began to

It had grown much colder. The sun hung low in the horizon, and the deceptive warmth of midafternoon had

given place to the chill dampness in the atmosphere. Half unconsciously, feeling that the time must have

slipped away more rapidly than she had suspected, Sara quickened her steps, Garth striding silently at her

side. Presently the little wooden jetty came into view once more. It bore a curiously bare, deserted aspect, the

waves riding and falling sluggishly on either side of its black, tarred planking, Sara stared at it incredulously,

"Gone?" Garth's eyes sought the landingstage, then swept the vista of greywater ahead of them.

A brown speck, bobbing maddeningly up and down in the distance and momentarily drifting further and

further out to sea on the ebbing tide, was all that could be seen of the Betsy Anne.

"Amusing?" Trent looked at her with a concerned expression. "It might be, if it were eleven o'clock in the

morning. But it's the wrong end of the day. It will be dark before long." He paused, then asked swiftly: "Does

"No. The doctor and Molly were both out to lunchand you know we only planned this trip this morning. I

"Because, if they know, they'd send over in search of us if we didn't turn up in the course of the next hour or

so. But if they don't know where you are, we stand an excellent chance of spending the night here."

The gravity of what had first struck her as merely an amusing contretemps suddenly presented itself to Sara.

"Do?" Garth spoke with grim force. "Why, you must be got off the island somehow. If not, you're fair game

By this time the manifest anxiety in Trent's face was reflected in her own. The possibility that they might be

compelled to spend the night on Devil's Hood Island was not one that could be contemplated with

equanimity, for Sara had no illusions whatever as to the charitableness of the view the world at large would

take of such an episodehowever accidental its occurrence. Unfortunately, essential innocence is frequently

"There is only one thing to be done," said Garth at last, after fruitlessly scanning the waters for any stray

fishingboat that might be passing. "I must swim across, and then row back and take you off."

"Swim across?" Sara regarded the distance between the island and the shore with consternation. "You

"But you would have the tide against you," she urged. The current off the coast ran with dangerous rapidity

between the mainland and the island, and more than one strong swimmer, as Sara knew, had lost his life

She looked across to the further shore again, and all at once it seemed impossible to let Garth make the

"No! Of course not! Butoh! Don't you see? It's madness to think of swimming across with the tide against

you! You could never do it. You might get crampOh! Anything might happen! You shan't go!"

She caught his arm impetuously, her eyes dilating with the sudden terror that had laid hold of her. But he was

"Look there," he said, pointing to a faint haze thickening the atmosphere. "Do you see the mist coming up?

Very soon it will be all over us, like a blanket, and there'd be no possibility of swimming across at all. I must

"But that only adds to the danger," she argued desperately. "The fog may come down sooner than you expect,

"I must risk that," he answered grimly. "Don't you realize that it's impossibleimpossible for us to remain

"No, I don't," she returned stubbornly. "It isn't worth such a frightful risk. Some one is sure to look for us

" 'Eventually' might mean tomorrow morning"drily"and that would be just twelve hours too late. It's

"It's not!"passionately. "Do you suppose I care two straws for the gossip of a parcel of spiteful old

"Not at the moment, perhaps, but later you wouldn't be able to help it. What people think of you, what they

say of you, can make all the difference between heaven and hell." He spoke heavily, as though his words

were weighted with some deadening memory. "And do you think I could bear to feel that II had given

people a handle for gossiping about you? I'd cut their tongues out first!" he added savagely.

He stripped off his coat, and, sitting down on a rock, began removing his boots, while Sara stood watching

Presently he stood up, bareheaded and barefooted. Below the lean, tanned face the column of his throat

showed white as a woman's, while the thin silk of his vest revealed the powerful line of shoulder at its base.

His keen eyes were gazing steadily across to the opposite shore, as though measuring the distance he must

traverse, and as a chance shaft from the westering sun rested upon him, investing him momentarily in its

radiance, there seemed something rather splendid about himsomething very sure and steadfast and utterly

"Garth! Garth!"his name sprang to her lips spontaneously. "You mustn't go! You mustn't go! . . ."

He wheeled round, and at the sight of her white, strained face a sudden light leapt into his eyesthe light of

a great incredulity with, back of it, an unutterable hope and longing. In two strides he was at her side, his

"Why, Sara?God in heaven!"the words came hurrying from him, hoarse and uneven"I believe you

For an instant he hesitated, seeming to hold himself in check, then he caught her in his arms, kissing her

She could hear the broken words stammered through his hurried breathing as she lay unresistingly in his

arms; then she felt him put her from him, gently, decisively, and she stood alone, swaying slightly. A long

She never knew whether the word really passed her lips or whether it was only the cry of her inmost being, so

There came no answer. He was gone, and through the light veil of the encroaching mists she could see him

She remained motionless, her eyes straining after him. He was swimming easily, with a powerful overhand

stroke that carried him swiftly away from the shore. A little sigh of relaxed tension fluttered between her lips.

Then her glance spanned the channel to the further shore, and it seemed as though an interminable waste of

water stretched between. And all the time, at every stroke, that mad, racing current was pulling against him,

She beat her hands together in an agony of fear. Why had she let him go? What did it matter if people

talkedwhat was a tarnished reputation to set against a man's life? Oh! She had been mad to let him go!

The fog grew denser. Strain as she might, she could no longer see the dark head above the water, the rise and

fall of his arm like a white flail in the murky light, and she realized that should exhaustion overtake him, or

A sickening sense of bitter impotence assailed her. There was nothing she could do but waitwait helplessly

until either his return, or endless hours of solitude, told her whether he had won or lost the fight against that

The creak of straining rowlocks and the even plash of dripping oars, muffled by the numbing curtain of the

fog, broke through the silence. Then followed the gentle thudding noise of a boat as it bumped against the

She rose from the ground where she had flung herself and came to him, peering at him with eyes that looked

"I though you were dead," she said dully. "Drowned. I meanoh, of course, it's the same thing, isn't it?" And

"No, I've very much alive, thanks," he said, speaking in deliberately cheerful and commonplace accents. "But

you look half frozen. Why on earth didn't you put the rug round you? Get into the boat and let me tuck you

She obeyed passively, and in a few minutes they were slipping over the water as rapidly as the mist

Sara was very silent throughout the return journey. For hours, for an eternity it seemed, she had been in the

grip of a consuming terror, culminating at last in the conviction that Garth had failed to make the further

shore. And now, with the knowledge of his safety, the reaction from the tension of acute anxiety left her

utterly flaccid and exhausted, incapable of anything more than a halfstunned acceptance of the miracle.

When at last the Selwyns' house was reached, it was with a manifest effort that she roused herself sufficiently

"If it was your fault that we got stranded on the island," she said, summoning up rather a wan smile, "it is, at

all events, thanks to you that I shall be sleeping under a respectable roof, instead of scandalizing half the

neighbourhood!" She paused, then went on uncertainly: " 'Thank you' seems ludicrously inadequate for all

"And if I did? I risked something of no value, I assure youto myself, or any one else."

"Get Jane Crab to give you some hot soup and go to bed. You look absolutely done."

"I will," she said. "Goodnight, then." She held out her hand a little nervously.

He took it, holding it closely in his, and looking down at her with the strange expression of a man who strives

to impress upon his mind the picture of a face he may not see again, so that in a lonely future he shall find

"Goodbye!" he said, at last, very gravely. Then a queer little smile, halfbitter, halftender, curving his lips,

he added: "I shall always have this one day for which to thank whatever gods there be."

Sara lay long awake that night. Under Jane Crab's bluff and kindly ministrations, her feeling of utter bodily

exhaustion had given place to an exquisite sense of mental and physical wellbeing, and, freed from the

shackles of material discomfort, her thoughts flew backward over the events of the day.

All was wellgloriously, blessedly well! There could be no misunderstanding that brief, passionate moment

when Garth had held her in his arms; and the blinding anguish of those hours which had followed, when she

Love had come to herthe love which Patrick Lovell had called the one altogether good and perfect

giftand with it came a tremulous unrest, a shy sweetness of desire that crept through all her veins like the

She felt no fear or shame of love. Sara would never be afraid of life and its demands, and it seemed to her a

matter of little moment that Garth had made no conventional avowal of his love. She did not, on that account,

pretend, even to herself, as many women would have done, that her own heart was untouched, but recognized

Nor did she doubt or question Garth's feeling for her. She knew, in every fibre of her being, that he loved her,

and she was ready to wait quite patiently and happily the few hours that must elapse before he could come to

Yet she longed, with a woman's natural longing, to hear him say in actual words all that his whole attitude

towards her had implied, craved for the moment when the beloved voice should ask for that surrender which

She rose early, with a ridiculous feeling that it would bring the time a little nearer, and Jane Crab stared in

amazement when she appeared downstairs while yet the preparations for breakfast were hardly in progress.

"You're no worse for your outing, then, Miss Tennant," she observed, adding shrewdly: "I'd as lief think you

Sara laughed, flushing a little. Somehow she did not mind the humorous suspicion of the truth that twinkled

in Jane's small, bootbutton eyes, but she sincerely hoped that the rest of the household would not prove

She need have had no fears on that score. Dr. Selwyn had barely time to swallow a cup of coffee and a slice

of toast before rushing off in response to an urgent summons from a patient, whilst Molly seemed entirely

preoccupied with the contents of a letter, in an unmistakably masculine handwriting, which had come for her

by the morning's post. As for Mrs. Selwyn, she was always too much engrossed in analyzing the symptoms of

some fresh ailment she believed she had acquired to be sensible of the emotional atmosphere of those around

her. Her own sensationswhether she were too hot, or not quite hot enough, whether her new tabloids were

suiting her or whether she had not slept as well as usualoccupied her entire horizon.

This morning she was distressed because the hairpins Sara had purchased for her the previous day differed

"At Bloxham's, you mean, dear. Oh, well, of course, you couldn't get any others, then. Perhaps if you had

tried another shop" Mrs. Selwyn paused, to let this suggestion sink in, then added brightly: "But, naturally,

I couldn't expect you to spend your whole morning going from shop to shop looking for my particular kind of

Sara, who had expended a solid hour over that very occupation, was perfectly conscious of the reproach

implied. She ignored it, however. Like every one else in close contact with Mrs. Selwyn, she had learned to

accept the fact that the poor lady seriously believed that her whole life was spent in bearing with admirable

When she descended from Mrs. Selwyn's room Sara was amazed to find that the hands of the clock only

indicated halfpast ten. Surely no morning had ever dragged itself away so slowly!

At two o'clock she and Molly were both due to lunch with Mrs. Maynard at Greenacres, and she was

radiantly aware that Garth Trent would be included among the guests. Between them, Audrey, and the

Herricks, and Sara had succeeded in enticing the hermit within the charmed circle of their friendship, and he

could now be depended upon to join their little gatherings"provided," as he had bluntly told Audrey, "that

"I'm not in the least likely to find fault with your manners," she said cheerfully. "They're really quite normal,

and as for your morals, they are your own affair, my dear man. Anyway, there is at least one bond between

Greenacres was a delightful place, built rather on the lines of a French country house, with the sittingrooms

leading one into the other and each opening in its turn on to a broad wooden verandah. The latter ran round

three sides of the house, and in summer the delicate pink of Dorothy Perkins fought for supremacy with the

Audrey was on the steps to greet the two girls when they arrived, looking, as usual, as though she had just

quitted the hands of an expert French maid. It was in a great measure to the ultraperfection of her toilette

that she owed the critical attitude accorded her by the feminine half of Monkshaven. To the provincial mind,

the fact that she dyed her hair, ordered her frocks from Paris, and kept a French chef to cook her food, were

all so many indications of an altogether worldly and abandoned characterand of a wealth that was secretly

to be enviedand the more venomous among Audrey's detractors lived in the perennial hope of some day

Audrey was perfectly aware of the gossip of which she was the subject and completely indifferent to it.

"It amuses them," she would say blithely, "and it doesn't hurt me in the least. If Mr. Trent and I both left the

neighbourhood, Monkshaven would be at a loss for a topic of conversationunless they decided, as they

She herself was quite above the petty meanness of envying another woman's looks or clothes, and she

beamed frank admiration over Molly's appearance as she led the way into the house.

"Molly, you're too beautiful to be true," she declared, pausing in the hall to inspect the girl's young loveliness

in its setting of shady hat and embroidered muslin frock. Big golden poppies on the hat, and a girdle at her

waist of the same tawny hue, emphasized the rare colour of her eyesin shadow, brown like an autumn leaf,

gold like amber when the sunlight lay in themand the whole effect was deliciously arresting.

"You've been spending your substance in riotous purple and fine linen," pursued Audrey relentlessly. "That

Molly blushednot the dull, unbecoming red most women achieve, but a delicate pink like the inside of a

Sara glanced at her with quick surprise. Entirely absorbed in her own thoughts, she had failed to observe the

expensive charm of Molly's toilette and now regarded it attentively. Where had she obtained the money to

pay for it? Only a very little while ago she had been in debt, and now here she was launching out into

Sara frowned a little, but, recognizing the impossibility of probing into the matter at the moment, she

Meanwhile, it was impossible to do other than acknowledge the results obtained. Molly looked more like a

stately young empress than an impecunious doctor's daughter as she floated into the room, to be embraced

and complimented by the Lavender Lady and to receive a generous meed of admiration, seasoned with a little

Sara experienced a sensation of relief on discovering Miss Lavinia and Herrick to be the only occupants of

the room. Garth Trent had not yet come. Despite her longing to see him again, she was conscious of a certain

diffidence, a reluctance at meeting him in the presence of others, and she wished fervently that their first

meeting after the events of the previous day could have taken place anywhere rather than at this gay little

As it fell out, however, she chanced to be entirely alone in the room when Trent was at length ushered in by a

trim maidservant, the rest of the party having gradually drifted out on to the verandah, while she had lingered

She had never conceived it possible that so commonplace an emotion as mere nervousness could find place

beside the immensities of love itself, yet, during the interminable moment when Garth crossed the room to

her side, she was supremely aware of an absurd desire to turn and flee, and it was only by a sheer effort of

The next moment he had shaken hands with her and was making some tranquil observation upon the lateness

of his arrival. His manner was quite detached, every vestige of anything beyond mere conventional politeness

The coolly neutral inflections of his voice struck upon Sara's keyed up consciousness as an indifferent finger

may twang the stretched strings of a violin, producing a shuddering violation of their harmony.

She hardly knew how she answered him. She only knew, with a sudden overwhelming certainty, that the

Garth who stood beside her now was a different man, altered out of all kinship with the man who had held

her in his arms on Devil's Hood Island. The lover was gone; only the acquaintance remained.

She stammered a few halting words by way of response, andwas she mistaken, or did a sudden look of

understanding, almost, it seemed, of compunction, leap for a moment into his eyes, only to be replaced by the

The opportune return of Audrey and her other guests, heralded by a gust of cheerful laughter, tided over the

difficult moment, and Garth turned away to make his apologies to his hostess, blaming some slight mishap to

Throughout lunch Sara conversed mechanically, responding like an automaton when any one put a penny in

the slot by asking her a question. She felt utterly bewildered, stunned by Garth's behaviour.

Had their meeting been exchanged under the observant eyes of the rest of the party, it would have been

intelligible to her, for he was the last man in the world to wear his heart upon his sleeve. But they had been

quite alone for the moment, and yet he had permitted no acknowledgment of the new relations between them

to appear either in word or look. He had greeted her precisely as though they were no more to each other than

the merest acquaintancesas though the happenings of the previous day had been wiped out of his mind. It

Sara felt almost as if some one had dealt her a physical blow, and it required all her pluck and poise to enable

her to take her share of the general conversation before wending their several ways homeward.

Audrey's high, clear voice, as she chattered to Molly, characteristically propounding halfadozen plans for

the immediate future, floated across to Sara where she stood waiting on the lowest step, impatient to be gone.

As though drawn by some invisible magnet, her eyes encountered Garth's, and the swift colour rushed into

His expression was enigmatical. The next moment he bent forward and spoke, in a low voice that reached her

"Much maligned placewhere I tasted my one little bit of heaven!" Then, after a pause, he added

deliberately: "But a black sheep has no business with heaven. He'd be turned away from the doorsand quite

rightly, too! That's why I shall never ask for admittance." He regarded her steadily for a moment, then quietly

And Sara realized that in those few words he had revokedrepudiating all that he had claimed, all that he

Sara, seated at the open window of her room, reread the last paragraph of the letter which the morning's post

had brought her, and then let it fall again on to her lap, whilst she stared with sombre eyes across the bay to

April had slipped into May, and the blue waters of the Channel flickered with a myriad dancing points of

light reflected from an unclouded sun. The trees had clothed themselves anew in pale young green, and the

whole atmosphere was redolent of springspring as she reaches her maturity before she steps aside to let the

Sara frowned a little. She was out of tune with the harmony of things. You need happiness in your heart to be

at one with the eager pulsing of new life, the reaching out towards fulfillment that is the essential quality of

spring. Whereas Sara's heart was empty of happiness and hopes, and of all the joyous beginnings that are the

glorious appanage of youth. There could be no beginnings for her, because she had already reached the

endreached it with such a stupefying suddenness that for a time she had been hardly conscious of pain, but

only of a fierce, intolerable resentment and of a pride that "devil's own pride" which Patrick had told her

Garth had taken that pride of hers and ground it under his heel. He had played at love, and she had been fool

enough to mistake love's simulacrum for the real thing. Or, if there had been any genuine spark of love

kindling the fire of passion that had blazed about her for one brief moment, then he had since chosen

He had indicated his intention unmistakably. Since the day of the luncheon party at Greenacres he had

shunned meeting her whenever possible, and, on the one or two occasions when an encounter had been

Outwardly she had repaid him in full measureindifference for indifference, ice for ice, gallantly matching

her woman's pride against his deliberate apathy, but inwardly she writhed at the remembrance of that day on

the island, when, in the stress of her terror for his safety, she had let him see into the very heart of her.

Well, it was over now, and done with. The brief vision of love which had given a new, transcendent

significance to the whole of life, had faded swiftly into bleak darkness, its memory marred by that bitterest of

all knowledge to a womanthe knowledge that she had been willing to give her love, to make the great

surrender, and that it had not been required of her. All that remained was to draw a veil as decently as might

The strain of the last fortnight had left its mark on her. The angles of her face seemed to have become more

sharply defined, and her eyes were too brilliant and held a look of restlessness. But her lips closed as firmly

as ever, a courageous scarlet line, denying the power of fate to thrust her under.

The Book of Garththe book of lovewas closed, but there were many other volumes in life's library, and

Sara did not propose to go through the probable remaining fifty or sixty years of her existence uselessly

bewailing a dead past. She would face life, gamely, whatever it might bring, and as she had already sustained

one of the hardest blows ever likely to befall her, she would probably make a success of it.

But, unquestionably, she would be glad to get away from Monkshaven for a time, to have leisure to readjust

her outlook on life, free from the ceaseless reminders that the place held for her.

Here in Monkshaven, it seemed as though Garth's personality informed the very air she breathed. The great

cliff where he had his dwelling frowned at her from across the bay whenever she looked out of her window,

his name was constantly on the lips of those who made up her little circle of friends, and every day she was

haunted by the fear of meeting him. Or, worse than all else, should that fear materialize, the torment of the

almost hostile relationship which had replaced their former friendship had to be endured.

The invitation to join the Durwards in London had come at an opportune moment, offering, as it did, a way of

escape from the embarrassments inseparable from the situation. Moreover, amid the distractions and bustle of

the great city it would be easier to forget for a little her burden of pain and humiliation. There is so much time

Sara would have accepted the invitation without hesitation, but that there seemed to her certain reasons why

her absence from Sunnyside just now was inadvisablereasons based on her loyalty to Doctor Dick and the

For the last few weeks she had been perplexed and not a little worried concerning Molly's apparent accession

to comparative wealth. Certain small extravagances in which the latter had recently indulged must have been,

Sara knew, beyond the narrow limits of her purse, and inquiry had elicited from Selwyn the fact that she had

Molly herself had lightheartedly evaded all efforts to gain her confidence, and Sara had refrained from

putting any direct question, since, after all, she was not the girl's guardian, and her interference might very

She was uneasily conscious that for some reason or other Molly was in a state of tension, alternating between

abnormally high spirits and the depths of depression, and the recollection of that unpleasant little episode of

She had seen the man once, in Oldhampton High StreetMolly, at that time still clothed in penitence, had

pointed him out to herand she had received an unpleasing impression of a lean, hatchet face with deepset,

She felt reluctant to go away and leave things altogether to chance, and finally, unable to come to any

decision, she carried Elisabeth's letter down to Selwyn's study and explained the position.

"We shall miss you abominably," he declared. "But of course"ruefully "I can quite understand Mrs.

Durward's wanting you to go back to them for a time, and I suppose we must resign ourselves to being

unselfish. Only you must promise to come back againyou mustn't desert us altogether."

"You needn't be afraid of that. I shall turn up again like the proverbial bad penny."

"I don't think you need worry about her." Selwyn laughed a little. "The sudden accession to wealth is

"Yesthough goodness knows how she has beguiled any one into buying one of her daubs!"

"Oh, they're quite good, really, Doctor Dick. It's only that Futurist Art doesn't appeal to you."

"Not exactly! She showed me one of her paintings the other day. It looked like a bad motorbus accident in a

crowded street, and she told me that it represented the physical atmosphere of a woman who had just been

"Howhow awfully funny!" she said in an odd, choked voice. Then, fearful of losing her selfcommand,

she added hastily: "I'll write and tell Elisabeth that I'll come, then." And fled out of the room.

As Sara stepped out of the train at Paddington, the first person upon whom her eyes alighted was Tim

"Didn't you expect I should?" He was holding her hand and joyfully pumphandling it up and down as

though he would never let it go, while the glad light in his eyes would indubitably have betrayed him to any

"Oh, well, you might conceivably have had something else to do," she returned evasively.

"Now, Tim, I won't be growled at the first minute of my arrival. You can pour out your grumbles another

day. First now, I want to hear all the news. Remember, I've been vegetating in the country since the

She drew him tactfully away from the old sore subject of his enforced idleness, and, while the car bore them

swiftly towards the Durwards' house on Green Street, she entertained him with a description of the Selwyn

"I should think your 'Doctor Dick' considers himself damned lucky in having got you thereseeing that his

Tim made no reply, but stared out of the window. The car rounded the corner into Park Lane; in another

moment they would reach their destination. Suddenly he turned to her, his face rather strained looking.

"If you mean has any one asked me to marry himno, Tim. No one has done me that honour," she answered

"Haven't yougot over that, yet?" she said, hesitatingly. "II hoped you would, Tim."

"I shall never get over it," he asserted doggedly. "And I shall never give you up till you are another man's

The quiet intensity of his tones sounded strangely in her ears. This was a new Tim, not the boyish Tim of

She was spared the necessity of reply by the fact that they had reached their journey's end. The car slid

smoothly to a standstill, and almost simultaneously the housedoor opened, and behind the immaculate figure

of the Durwards' butler Sara descried the welcoming faces of Geoffrey and Elisabeth.

It was good to see them both againGeoffrey, big and debonair as ever, his jolly blue eyes beaming at her

delightedly, and Elisabeth, still with that same elusive atmosphere of charm which always seemed to cling

They were eager to hear Sara's news, plying her with questions, so that before the end of her first evening

with them they had gleaned a fairly accurate description of her life at Sunnyside and of the new circle of

But there was one name she refrained from mentioningthat of Garth Trent, and none of Elisabeth's quietly

uttered comments or inquiries sufficed to break through the guard of her reticence concerning the Hermit of

"It sounds rather a manless Edenexcept for the nice, lame Herrick person," said Elisabeth at last, and her

hyacinth eyes, with their curiously veiled expression, rested consideringly on Sara's face, alight with interest

"Yes, I suppose it is rather," she admitted. Her tone was carelessly indifferent, but the eager light died

suddenly out of her face, and Elisabeth, smiling faintly, adroitly turned the conversation.

Sara speedily discovered that she would have even less time for the fruitless occupation of remembering than

she had anticipated. The Durwards owned a host of friends in town with whom they were immensely popular,

and Sara found herself caught up in a perpetual whirl of entertainment that left her but little leisure for

She felt sometimes as though the London season had opened and swallowed her up, as the whale swallowed

Jonah, and when she declared herself breathless with so much rushing about, Tim would coolly throw over

any engagement that chanced to have been made and carry her off for a day up the river, where a quiet little

lunch, in the tranquil shade of overhanging trees, and the cosy, intimate talk that was its invariable

concomitant, seemed like an oasis of familiar, homely pleasantness in the midst of the gay turmoil of London

Tim had developed amazingly. He seemed instinctively to recognize her moods, adapting himself

accordingly, and in his thought and care for her there was a halfplayful, halftender element of

possessiveness that sometimes brought a smile to her lipsand sometimes a sigh, as the inevitable

comparison asserted itself between Tim's gentle ruling and the brusque, forceful mastery that had been

Garth's. But, on the whole, the visit to the Durwards was productive of more smiles than sighs, and Sara

found Tim's young, chivalrous devotion very soothing to the wound her pride had suffered at Garth's hands.

"You're giving me a perfectly lovely time," she told her. "And Tim is such a good playfellow!"

Elisabeth's face seemed suddenly to glow with that inner radiance which praise of her beloved Tim alone was

"Only that, Sara?" she said very quietly. Yet somehow Sara knew that she meant to have an answer to her

"Nor has he. Tim is loyal to the core. But a mother doesn't need telling these things." Elisabeth's beautiful

voice deepened. "Tim is bone of my bone and flesh of my fleshand he's soul of my soul as well. Do you

Sara was strangely moved. There was something impressive in the restrained passion of Elisabeth's speech, a

certain primitive grandeur in her envisagement of the relationship of mother and son.

"I expect," pursued Elisabeth calmly, "that you think I'm going too farfarther than I have any right to. But

it's any mother's right to fight for her son's happiness, and I'm fighting for Tim's. Why won't you marry him,

"I wish," she observed, "that we lived in the good old days when you could have been carried off by sheer

"And what about me? You wouldn't have considered my feelings at all in the matter, I suppose?" Sara was

still smiling, yet she had a dim consciousness that, preposterous as it sounded, Elisabeth would have had no

scruples whatever about putting such a plan into effect had it been in any way feasible.

"No." Elisabeth replied with the utmost composure. "Tim comes first. But"and suddenly her voice melted

to an indescribable sweetness "You would be almost one with him in my heart, because you had brought

him happiness." She paused, then launched her question with a delicate hesitancy that skillfully concealed all

semblance of the probe. "Tell meis there any one else who has asked of you what Tim asks? Perhaps I

"No," she said flatly, "there is no one else." With a sudden bitter selfmockery she added: "Tim's is the only

The repressed anxiety with which Elisabeth had been regarding her relaxed, and a curious look of content

took birth in the hyacinth eyes. It was as though the bitterness of Sara's answer in some way reassured her,

"Then can't you give Tim what he wants? You will be robbing no one. Sara"her low voice vibrated with

the urgency of her desire"promise me at least that you will think it overthat you will not dismiss the idea

"Because I think"very softly"that Tim himself will ask you the same thing before very long. And I can't

face what it will mean to him if you send him away. . . . You would be happy with him, Sara. No woman

The depth of her conviction imbued her words with a strange force of suggestion. For the first time the idea

of marriage with Tim presented itself to Sara as a remotely conceivable happening.

Hitherto she had looked upon his love for her as something which only touched the outer fringe of her lifea

temporary disturbance of the goodcomradely relations that had existed between them. With the easy

optimism of a woman whose heart has always been her own exclusive property she had hoped he would "get

But now Elisabeth's appeal, and the knowledge of the pain of love, which love itself had taught her,

quickened her mind to a new understanding. Perhaps Elisabeth felt her yield to the impression she had been

endeavoring to create, for she rose and came and stood quite close to her, looking down at her with shining

"Give my son his happiness!" she said. And the eternal supplication of all motherhood was in her voice.

Sara made no answer. She sat very still, with bent head. Presently there came the sound of light footsteps as

Elisabeth crossed the room, and, a moment later, the door closed softly behind her.

She had thrust a new responsibility on Sara's shouldersthe responsibility of Tim's happiness.

"Give my son his happiness!" The poignant appeal of the words rang in Sara's ears.

After all, why not? As Elisabeth had said, she would be robbing no one by so doing. The man for whom had

been reserved the place in the sacred inner temple of her heart had signified very clearly that he had no

No other would ever enter in his stead; the doors of that innermost sanctuary would be kept closed, shutting

in only the dead ashes of remembrance. But if entrance to the outer courts of the temple meant so much to

Tim, why should she not make him free of them? That other had come and gone again, having no need of her,

Life, at the moment stretched in front of her very vague and purposeless, and she knew that by marrying Tim

she would make three people whom she loved, and who mattered most to her in the whole world Tim, and

Elisabeth, and Geoffreysupremely happy. No one need suffer except herselfand for her there was no

So it came about that when, as her visit drew towards its close, Tim came to her and asked her once again to

be his wife, she gave him an answer which by no stretch of the imagination could she have conceived as

She was very frank with him. She was determined that if he married her, it must be openeyed, recognizing

that she could only give him honest liking in return for love. Upon a foundation of sincerity some mutual

happiness might ultimately be established, but there should be no submerged rock of ignorance and

misunderstanding on which their frail barque of matrimonial happiness might later founder in a sea of infinite

"Are you willing to take melike that?" she asked him. "Knowing that I can only give you friendship? I

A wave of painful colour flooded her face, then ebbed away, leaving it curiously white and pinchedlooking,

"Yes, you had," she replied steadily, "since you have asked me to be your wife."

"Well, you've answered itand it doesn't make a bit of difference. I want you. I'll take what you can give

"Don't count on that, Tim. Friendship, understanding, the comradeship which, after all, can mean a good deal

between a man and womanall these I can give you. And if you think those things are worth while, I'll

"You will beI'm sure it's catching," he declared with the gay, buoyant confidence which was one of his

"How can I be?" he interrupted joyfully. "When the woman I love tells me that she'll marry me, do you

He caught her in his arms and kissed her with all the impetuous fervour of his twoandtwenty years. At the

touch of his warm young lips, her own lips whitened. For an instant, as she rested in his arms, she was

stabbed through and through by the memory of those other arms that had held her as in a vice of steel, and of

stormy, passionate kisses in comparison with Tim's impulsive caress, halfshy, halfreverent, seemed like

She drew herself sharply out of his embrace. Would she never forget would she be for ever remembering,

"No," she said quietly. "You needn't pull a long face over it. But but marriage is a serious thing, Tim, after

"My dear"he spoke with a sudden gentle gravity"don't misunderstand me. Marriage with you is the most

serious and wonderful and glorious thing that could ever happen to a man. When you're my wife, I shall be

thanking God on my knees every day of my life. All the jokes and nonsense are only so many little waves of

happiness breaking on the shore. But behind them there is always the big sea of my love for you the still

Sara remained silent. The realization of the tender, chivalrous, worshiping love this boy was pouring out at

her feet made her feel very humblevery ashamed and sorry that she could give so little in return.

"Timmy Tim," she said, and her voice shook a little. "I'll try not to disappoint you."

The Durwards received the news of their son's engagement to Sara with unfeigned delight. Geoffrey was

bluffly gratified at the materialization of his private hopes, and Elisabeth had never appeared more

captivating than during the few days that immediately followed. She went about as softly radiant and content

as a pleased child, and even the strange, watchful reticence that dwelt habitually in her eyes was temporarily

She urged that an early date should be fixed for the wedding, and Sara, with a dreary feeling that nothing

really mattered very much, listlessly acquiesced. Driven by conflicting influences she had burned her boats,

But she opposed a quiet negative to the further suggestion that she should accompany the Durwards to

"No, I can't do that," she said with decision. "I promised Doctor Dick I would go back."

Elisabeth smiled airily. Apparently she had no scruples about the keeping of promises.

"That's easily arranged," she affirmed. "I'll write to your precious doctor man and tell him that we can't spare

As far as personal inclination was concerned, Sara would gladly have adopted Elisabeth's suggestion. She

shrank inexpressibly from returning to Monkshaven, shrouded, as it was, in brief but poignant memories, but

she had given Selwyn her word that she would go back, and, even in a comparatively unimportant matter

such as this appeared, she had a predilection in favour of abiding by a promise.

"I shouldn't," she replied with energy. "The people I love come first all the rest nowhere."

"Then I'm glad I'm one of the people you love," retorted Sara, laughing. "And, let me tell you, I think you're a

"Perhaps I am," she acknowledged. "At least, from a conventional point of view. Certainly I shouldn't let any

socalled moral scruples spoil the happiness of any one I cared about. However, I suppose you would, and so

we're all to be offered up on the altar of this twopenny halfpenny promise you've made to Dr. Selwyn?"

If anything could have reconciled her to the sacrifice of inclination she had made in returning to

Monkshaven, it would have been the warmth of the welcome extended to her on her arrival. Selwyn and

Molly met her at the station, and Jane Crab, resplendent in a new cap and apron donned for the occasion, was

at the gate when at last the pony brought the governesscart to a standstill outside. Even Mrs. Selwyn had

exerted herself to come downstairs, and was waiting in the hall to greet the wanderer back.

"It will be a great comfort to have you back, my dear," she said with unwonted feeling in her voice, and quite

suddenly Sara felt abundantly rewarded for the many weary hours upstairs, trying to win Mrs. Selwyn's

"You're looking thinner," was Selwyn's blunt comment, as Sara threw off her hat and coat. "What have you

"Oh, racketing about, I suppose. I've been living in a perfect whirl. Never mind, Doctor Dick, you shall fatten

me up now with your good country food and your good country air. Good gracious!"as he closed a big

thumb and finger around her slender wrist and shook his head disparagingly"Don't look so solemn! I was

"I don't think that London has agreed with you," rumbled Selwyn discontentedly. "Your pulse is as jerky as a

primitive cinema film. You'd better not be in such a hurry to run away from us again. Besides, we can't do

With a mental jolt Sara recollected the fact of her approaching marriage. How on earth should she break it to

these good friends of hers, who counted so much on her remaining with them, that within three monthsthe

longest period Elisabeth would consent to waitshe would be leaving them permanently? It was manifestly

impossible to pour such a douche of cold water into the midst of the joyful warmth of their welcome; and she

decided to wait, at least until the next day, before acquainting them with the fact of her engagement.

When morning came, the same arguments held good in favour of a further postponement, and, as the days

Moreover, amid the change of environment and influence, Sara experienced a certain almost inevitable

reaction of feeling. It was not that she actually regretted her engagement, but none the less she found herself

supersensitively conscious of it, and she chafed against the thought of the congratulations and all the kindly,

She told herself irritably that this was only because she had not yet had time to get used to the idea of

regarding herself as Tim's future wife; that, later on, when she had grown more accustomed to it, the prospect

of her friends' felicitations would appear less repugnant. She had to face the ultimate fact that marriage, for

her, did not mean the crowning fulfillment of life; marriage with Tim would never be anything more than a

With these thoughts in her mind, she finally decided to say nothing about her engagement for the present, but

to pick up the threads of life at Sunnyside as though that crowded month in London, with its unexpected

Once taken, the decision afforded her a curious sense of respite and relief. It was very pleasant to drop back

into the old habits of managing the Sunnyside m�nagemaking herself indispensable to Selwyn, humouring

The latter, Sara found, was by far the most difficult part of her task, and the vague apprehensions she had

formed, and to some extent shared with Selwyn before her visit to London, increased.

From an essentially lovable, inconsequent creature, with a temper of an angel and the frankness of a child,

Molly had become oddly nervous and irritable, flushing and paling suddenly for no apparent cause, and

guardedly uncommunicative as to her comings and goings. She was oddly resentful of any manifestation of

interest in her affairs, and snubbed Sara roundly when the latter ventured an injudicious inquiry as to whether

"How on earth should I know?" The goldenbrown eyes met Sara's with a look of nervous defiance. "I'm not

his keeper." Then, as though slightly ashamed of her outburst, she added more amiably: "I haven't been down

to the Club for weeks. It's been so hotand I suppose I've been lazy. But I'm going tomorrow. I shall be

"Tomorrow?" Sara looks surprised. "But we promised to go to tea with Audrey tomorrow."

"I tell you what I'll do," she said agreeably. "I'll come back by the afternoon train and meet you at

Tea at Greenacres resolved itself into a kind of rarefied picnic, and, as Sara crossed the cool green lawns in

the wake of a smart parlourmaid, she found that quite a considerable number of Audrey's friendsand

enemieswere gathered together under the shade of the trees, partaking of tea and strawberries and cream.

The elite of the neighbourhood might find many disagreeable things to say concerning Mrs. Maynard, but

they were not in the least averse to accepting her hospitality whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Sara's heart leapt suddenly as she descried Trent's lean, wellknit figure amongst those dotted about on the

lawn. She had tried very hard to accustom herself to meet him with composure, but at each encounter,

although outwardly quite cool, her pulses raced, and today, the first time she had seen him since her return

from London, she felt as though all her nerves were outside her skin instead of underneath it.

He was talking to Miles Herrick. The latter, lying back luxuriously in a deckchair, proceeded to wave and

beckon an enthusiastic greeting as soon as he caught sight of Sara, and rather reluctantly she responded to his

"I feel like a bloated sultan summoning one of the ladies of the harem to his presence," confessed Miles

apologetically when he had shaken hands. "I've added a sprained ankle to my other disabilities," he continued

"This man maintained that it was bad for my mental and moral health to brood alone at home while Lavinia

went skipping off into society unchaperoned. So he fetched me along in his car."

It was odd how kindly and considerate he always showed himself towards Miles Herrick. Perhaps somewhere

within him a responsive chord was touched by the evidence of the other man's broken life.

"Miss Tennant is thinking that it's a case of the blind leading the blind for me to act as a cicerone into

Sara winced at the repellent hardness of his tone, but she declined to take up the challenge.

Trent's lips closed in a straight line. It seemed as though he were trying to resist the appeal of her gently given

answer; and Miles, conscious of the antagonism in the atmosphere, interposed with some commonplace

"Oh, I've been leading too gay a life," she said hastily. "The Durwards seem to know half London, so that we

"Durward?" The word sprang violently from Trent's lips, almost as though jerked out of him, and Sara,

glancing towards him in some astonishment, surprised a strange, suddenly vigilant expression in his face. It

was immediately succeeded by a blank look of indifference, yet beneath the assumption of indifference his

"Yesthe people I have been staying with," she explained. "Do you know them, by any chance?"

"I really can't say," he replied carelessly. "Durward is not a very uncommon name, is it?"

"Their name was originally Lovellthey only acquired the Durward with some property. Mrs. Durward is an

extraordinarily beautiful woman. I believe in her younger days she had half London in love with her."

Sara hardly knew why she felt impelled to supply so many particulars concerning the Durwards. After that

first brief exclamation, Trent seemed to have lost interest, and appeared to be rather bored by the recital than

"I?" He started slightly, as though recalled to the present by her question. "No. I haven't the pleasure to be

numbered amongst Mrs. Durward's friends," he said quietly. "I have seen her, however."

"Very," he replied indifferently. And then, quite deliberately, he directed the conversation into another

channel, leaving Sara feeling exactly as though a door had been slammed in her face.

It was his old method of putting an end to a discussion that failed to please himthis arrogantly abrupt

transition to another subjectand, though it served its immediate purpose, it was a method that had its

weaknesses. If you deliberately hide behind a hedge, any one who catches you in the act naturally wonders

Even Miles looked a trifle astonished at Trent's curt dismissal of the Durward topic, and Sara, who had

observed the strange expression that leaped into his eyeshalfguarded, half inimicalfelt convinced that

She could not imagine in what way they were connected with his life, nor why he should have been so averse

to admitting his knowledge of them. But there were many inexplicable circumstances associated with the man

who had chosen to live more or less the life of a recluse at Far End; and Sara, and the little circle of intimates

who had at last succeeded in drawing him into their midst, had accustomed themselves to the atmosphere of

From his obvious desire to eschew the society of his fellow men and women, and from the acid cynicism of

his outlook on things in general, it had been gradually assumed amongst them that some happenings in the

past had marred his life, poisoning the springs of faith, and hope, and charity at their very fount, and with the

tact of real friendship they never sought to discover what he so evidently wished concealed.

"Where is Molly today?" Miles's pleasant voice broke across the awkward moment, giving yet a fresh trend

Sara's gaze ranged searchingly over the little groups of people sprinkled about the lawn.

"Isn't she here yet?" she asked, startled. "She was coming back from Oldhampton by the afternoon train, and

"The attractions of Oldhampton have evidently proved too strong for her," he said a little drily. "If she had

Sara, sensing his wish to be gone and genuinely disturbed at Molly's nonappearance, acquiesced.

"I should be very glad if you would," she answered. Then turning to Miles, she went on: "I can't think where

"Lookerson see most of the game, you know. And I'm essentially a lookeron." He bit back a quick sigh,

and went on hastily: "But I don't think you need worry about our Molly's vagaries. She's too sound au fond to

Sara looked at him affectionately, reflecting that Trent's black cynicism made a striking foil to the serene and

"I have to. Don't you see, people are my whole world. I'm cut off from everything else. If I didn't look for the

best in them, I should want to kill myself. And I'm pretty lucky," he added, smiling humorously. "I generally

At this moment Trent returned with the news that Molly was nowhere to be found. It was evident she had not

"Then I think I shall go home and see if she has arrived there yet," she said. She smiled down at Miles. "Even

The first person Sara encountered on her return to Sunnyside was Jane Crab, unmistakably bursting to impart

"The doctor's going away, miss," she announced, flinging her bombshell without preliminary.

"Going away?" Sara's surprise was entirely gratifying, and Jane continued volubly

"Yes, miss. A telegram came for him early in the afternoon, while he was out on his rounds, asking him to go

to a friend who is lying at death's door, as you may say. And please, miss, Dr. Selwyn said he would be glad

"Very well, I'll go to him at once. Where is Miss Molly? Has she come back yet?"

"I see." Sara nodded somewhat abstractly. She was still wondering confusedly why Molly had failed to put in

"About a quarter of an hour ago, miss. She missed the early train back from Oldhampton."

Sara's instant feeling of relief was tempered by a mild element of selfreproach. She had been agitating

herself about nothingallowing her uneasiness about Molly to become a perfect obsession, leading her into

the wildest imaginings. Here had she been disquieting herself the entire afternoon because Molly had not

turned up as arranged, and after all, the simple, commonplace explanation of the matter was that she had

Smiling over the groundlessness of her fears, Sara hastened away to Selwyn's study, and found him, seated at

his desk, scribbling some hurried motes concerning various cases among his patients for the enlightenment of

"Oh, there you are, Sara!" he exclaimed, laying down his pen as she entered. "I'm glad you have come back

"I'd like to see him again," he answered simply. "We haven't met for some yearsnot since my wife's health

brought me to Monkshavenbut we were good pals at one time, he and I. Luckily, I've been able to arrange

with Dr. Mitchell to include my patients in his round, and if you'll take charge of everything here at home,

"Of course I will. It's very nice of you to entrust your family to my care so confidently."

"Quite confidently," he replied. "I'm not afraid of anything going wrong if you're at the helm."

Denuded of Selwyn's big, kindly presence, the house seemed curiously silent. Even Jane Crab appeared to

feel the effect of his absence, and strove less forcefully with her pots and panswhich undoubtedly made for

an increase of peace and quietwhile Molly was frankly depressed, stealing restlessly in and out of the

"What on earth's the matter with you?" Sara asked her laughingly. "Hasn't your father ever been away from

"I am an uneasy spirit," responded Molly bluntly. "I feel as though I'd a cold coming on, and I always like

"I can doctor a cold," affirmed Sara briskly. "Put your feet in hot water and mustard tonight and stay in bed

"Perhaps I will stay in bed tomorrow," she said, at last, reluctantly. "Should you mind? We were going

"I'll go alone. Anyway"smiling"if you're safely tucked up in bed, I shall know you're not getting into

any mischief while Doctor Dick's away! But very likely the hot water and mustard will put you all right."

The next morning, however, found her in bed, snuffling and complaining of headache, and pathetically

resigned to the idea of spending the day between the sheets. Obviously she was in no fit state to inflict her

company on other people, so, in the afternoon, after settling her comfortably with a new novel and a box of

There she found Garth Trent, sitting beside Herrick's couch and deep in an enthusiastic discussion of amateur

photography. But, immediately on her entrance, the eager, interested expression died out of his face, and very

shortly after tea he made his farewells, nor could any soft blandishments on the part of the Lavender Lady

Sara felt hurt and resentful. Since the day of the expedition to Devil's Hood Island, Trent had punctiliously

avoided being in her company whenever circumstances would permit him to do so, and she was perfectly

aware that it was her presence at Rose Cottage which was responsible for his early departure this afternoon.

"I'm sorry I've driven you away," she flashed at him beneath her breath, with a bitterness akin to his own. He

made no answer, merely releasing her hand rather quickly, as though something in her words had flicked him

"What a pity Mr. Trent had to leave so soon," remarked Miss Lavinia, with innocent regret, when he had

gone. "I'm afraid we shall never persuade him to be really sociable, poor dear man! He seems a little moody

"No, I don't think that," he said. "But he's a very sick man. In my opinion, Trent's had his soul badly mauled

"He needn't advertise the fact, then," retorted Sara, unappeased. "We all get our share of illluck. Garth

Sara smiled a little. There was never any evading Herrick's broad tolerance of human nature.

It was nearly an hour later when at last she took her way homewards, carrying in her heart, in spite of herself,

something of the gentle serenity that seemed to be a part of the very atmosphere at Rose Cottage.

Outside, the calm and fragrance of a June evening awaited her. Little, delicate, sweetsmelling airs floated

over the tops of the hedges from the fields beyond, and now and then a few stray notes of a blackbird's song

stole out from a plantation near at hand, breaking off suddenly and dying down into drowsy, contented little

Across the bay the sun was dipping towards the horizon, flinging along the face of the waters great shafts of

lambent gold and orange, that split into a thousand particles of shimmering light as the ripples caught them

up and played with them, and finally tossed them back again to the sun from the shining curve of a wave's

It was all very tranquil and pleasant, and Sara strolled leisurely along, soothed into a halfwaking dream by

the peaceful influences of the moment. Even the manifold perplexities and tangles of life seemed to recede

and diminish in importance at the touch of old Mother Nature's comforting hand. After all, there was much,

It is generally at moments like these, when we are sinking into a placid quiescence of endurance, that Fate

In this particular instance destiny manifested itself in the unassuming form of Black Brady, who slid

suddenly down from the roadside hedge, amid a crackling of branches and rattle of rubble, and appeared in

"Beg pardon, miss"Brady tugged at a forelock of curly black hair"I was just on me way to your place."

"No, miss, thank you, she's doing nicely." He paused a moment as though at a loss how to continue. Then he

"About Miss Molly?" Sara felt a sudden clutch at her heart. "What do you mean? Quick, Brady, what is it?"

"Well, miss, I've just seed 'er go off 'long o' Mr. Kent in his big motorcar. They took the London road,

and"here Brady shuffled his feet with much embarrassment"seein' as Mr. Kent's a married man, I'll be

Sara could have stamped with vexation. The little fooloh! The utter little foolto go off joyriding in an

evening like that! A break down of any kind, with a consequent delay in returning, and all Monkshaven

For the moment, however, there was nothing to be done except to put Black Brady in his place and pray for

"Well, Brady," she said coldly, "I imagine Mr. Kent's a good enough driver to bring Miss Selwyn back safely.

"You haven't understood, miss," he said doggedly. "Mr. Kent isn't for bringing Miss Molly back again.

They'd their luggage along wi' 'em in the car, and Mr. Kent, he stopped at the 'Cliff' to have the tank filled up

In an instant the whole dreadful significance of the thing leaped into Sara's mind. Molly had boltedrun

It was easy enough now, in the flashlight kindled by Brady's slow, inexorable summing up of detail, to see

the drift of recent happenings, the meaning of each small, disconcerting fact that added a fresh link to the

Molly's unwonted secretiveness; her strange, uncertain moods; her embarrassment at finding she was

expected at Greenacres when she had presumably agreed to meet Lester Kent in Oldhampton; and, last of all,

the sudden "cold" which had developed coincidentally with her father's absence from home and which had

secured her freedom from any kind of supervision for the afternoon. And the opportunity of clinching

arrangementsprobably already planned and dependent only on a convenient momenthad been provided

by her errand to the post office to send off her father's telegramit being as easy to send two telegrams as

The colour ebbed slowly from Sara's face as full realization dawned upon her, and she swayed a little where

she stood. With rough kindliness Brady stretched out a grimy hand and steadied her.

" 'Ere, don't' take on, miss. They won't get very far. I didn't, so to speak, fill the petrol tank"with a

grin"and there ain't more than two o' they cans I slipped aboard the car as 'olds more'n air. The rest was

empties"the grin widened enjoyably"which I shoved in well to the back. Mr. Kent won't travel eighty

"I've owed Mr. Lester Kent summat these three years," he answered complacently. "And I never forgets to

pay back. I owed you summat, too, Miss Tennant. I haven't forgot how you spoke up for me when I was

Sara held out her hand to him impulsively, and Brady sheepishly extended his own grubby paw to meet it.

Turning away, she hurried up the road, leaving Brady staring alternately at his right hand and at her receding

"She's rare gentry, is Miss Tennant," he remarked with conviction, and then slouched off to drink himself

blind at "The Jolly Sailorman." Black Brady was, after all, only an inexplicable bundle of good and bad

Arrived at the house, Sara fled breathlessly upstairs to Molly's room. Jane Crab was standing in the middle of

it, staring dazedly at all the evidences of a hasty departure which surrounded heran overturned chair here,

an empty hatbox there, drawers pulled out, and clothes tossed heedlessly about in every direction. In her

hand she held a chemist's parcel, neatly sealed and labeled; she was twisting it round and round in her

"Oh, Miss Sara! I'm main glad you've come! Whatever's happened? Miss Molly was here in bed not three

parts of an hour ago!" Then, her boot button eyes still roving round the room, she made a sudden dart

towards the dressingtable. "Here, miss, 'tis a note she's left for you!" she exclaimed, snatching it up and

Written in Molly's big, sprawling, childish hand, the note was a pathetic mixture of confession and

Sara's eyes were wet when she finished the perusal of the hastily scribbled letter. "We are to be married

tomorrow morning!" The blind, pathetic confidence of it! And if Black Brady had spoken the truth, if Lester

Kent were already a married man, tomorrow morning would convert the trusting, wayward baby of a

woman, with her adorable inconsistencies and her big, generous heart, into something Sara dared not

contemplate. The thought of the look in those browngold eyes, when Molly should know the truth, brought

"Listen to me, Jane," she said tersely. "Miss Molly's run away with Mr. Lester Kent. She thinks he's going to

"Sakes alive!" Just that one brief exclamation, and then suddenly Jane's lower lip began to work convulsively,

and two tears squeezed themselves out of her little eyes, and her whole face puckered up like a baby's.

"Don't cry!" she said vehemently. "You haven't time! We've got to save herwe've got to get her back

Jane reacted promptly to the fierce imperative, and sniffingly choked back her tears. Suddenly her eyes fell

on the little package from the chemist which she still held clutched in her hand.

"The artfulness of her!" she ejaculated indignantly. "Asking me to go along to the chemist's and bring her

back some aspirin for her headache! And me, like a fool, suspecting nothing, off I goes! There's the

stuff!"viciously flinging the chemist's parcel on to the floor. "Eh! Miss Molly'll have more than a headache

Though Sara spoke with such assured conviction, she was inwardly racked with anxiety. What could they

dotwo forlorn women? And to whom could they turn for help? Miles? He was lame. He was no abler to

"And how, may I ask, Miss Sara?" inquired Jane bitterly. "Be you goin' to run after the motorcar, mayhap?"

For a moment Sara was silent. The sarcastic query had set the spark to the tinder, and now she was thinking

rapidly, some semblance of a plan emerging at last from the chaotic turmoil of her mind.

Garth Trent! He could help her! He had a carSara did not know its pace, but she was certain Trent could be

trusted to get every ounce out of it that was possible. Between themhe and shethey would bring Molly

"Come to the stable and help me put in the Doctor's pony, Jane. You know how, don't you?"

"Yes, miss, I've helped the master many a time. But you ain't going to catch no motor with old Toby, Miss

"No, I don't expect to. I'm gong to drive across to Far End. Mr. Trent will help us. Don't worry, Jane"as the

two made their way to the stable and Jane strangled a sob"we'll bring Miss Molly back. And, listen! Mrs.

Selwyn isn't to hear a word of this. Do you understand? If she asks you anything, tell her that Miss Molly and

I are dining out. That'll be true enough, too," added Sara grimly, "if we dine at all!"

"Yes, miss," she said submissively. "You and Miss Molly are dining out. I won't forget."

Selwyn's pony had rarely before found himself hustled along at the pace at which Sara drove him. She let him

take his time up the hills, knowing, as every good horsewoman knows, that if you press your horse against

the hill, he will only flag the sooner and that you will lose more than you gain. But down the hills and along

the flat, Sara, with hands and whip, kept Toby going at an amazing pace. Perhaps something of her own

urgency communicated itself to the goodhearted beast, for he certainly made a great effort and brought her

Exactly as she pulled him to a standstill, the front door opened and Garth himself appeared. He had heard the

unwonted sound of wheels on the drive, and now, as he recognized his late visitor, an expression of extreme

"Yes. Can your man take my pony? And, please may I come in? II must see you alone for a few minutes."

Trent glanced at her searchingly as his ear caught the note of strain in her voice.

Summoning Judson to take charge of the pony and trap, he led the way into the comfortable, old fashioned

His manner held a quiet friendliness. The chill indifference he had accorded her of lateeven earlier that

same day at Rose Cottagehad vanished, and his curiously bright eyes regarded her with sympathetic

To the man as he appeared at the moment, it was no difficult matter for Sara to unburden her heart, and a few

"I don't know whether Mr. Kent is really a married man or not," she added in conclusion. "Brady declares that

"He is," replied Trent curtly. "Very much married. His first wife divorced him, and, since then, he has

"Oh!" Sara halfrose from her seat, her face blanching. Not till that moment did she realize how much

in her inmost heart she had been relying on the hope that Garth might be able to contradict Black Brady's

"Don't worry." Garth laid his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently back into her chair again. "Don't

worry. Thanks to Brady's stroke of genius about the petrolI've evidently underestimated the man's good

pointsI think I can promise you that you shall have Miss Molly safely back at Sunnyside in the course of a

"Of course I will trust you," she answered simply. Somehow it seemed as though a great burden had been

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Now, while Judson gets the car round, you must have a glass of wine."

He left the room, presently returning with a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses.

"Oh, pleaseI'd so much rather start at once," she protested. "I really don't want anything. Do let us hurry!"

"I'm sorry, but I've no intention of starting until you have drunk this"filling and handing one of the glasses

Rather than waste time in further argument, she accepted it, only to find that her hand was shaking

"II can't!" she gasped helplessly. Now that she had shared her burden of responsibility, the demands of the

With a swift movement Garth took the glass from her, and, supporting her with his other arm, held it to her

In a few minutes the wine had brought the colour back to her face, and she felt more like herself again.

"I'm all right, now," she said. "I'm sorry I was such a fool. Butbut this business about Molly has given me

She rose, and he surveyed her slight figure in its thin muslin gown with some amusement.

"Not quite a suitable costume for motoring by night," he remarked. He picked up one of the two big fur coats

Mrs. Judson had brought into the room. "Here, put this on." Then, when he had fastened it round her and

turned the collar up about her neck, he stood looking at her for a moment in silence.

The whole of her slender form was hidden beneath the voluminous folds of the big coat, which had been

originally designed to fit Garth's own proportions, and against the high fur collar her delicate cameo face,

with its white skin and scarlet lips and its sombre, nightblack eyes, emerged like some vivid flower from its

"Beautyin the garment of the Beast," he commented. Then, briskly: "Come along. Judson will have the car

Sara stepped into the car and he tucked the rugs carefully round her. Then, directing Judson to drive the

Selwyn pony and trap back to Sunnyside, he took his place at the wheel and the car slid noiselessly away

"The surprising discovery of the doctor's pony and trap at Far End tomorrow morning would require

"Judson," replied Garth, "has been in my service long enough to know the meaning of the word 'discretion.' "

Trent drove the car steadily enough through town, but, as soon as they emerged on to the great London main

road, he let her out and they swept rapidly along through the lingering summer twilight.

"Are you nervous?" he asked. "Do you mind forty or fifty miles an hour when we've a clear stretch ahead of

She felt the car leap forward like a living thing beneath them as it gathered speed.

"It's got to be done," he answered, and she was conscious of the quiet drivingforce that lay behind the

speechthe stubborn resolution of the man which she had begun to recognize as his most dominant

She wondered, as she had so often wondered before, whether any one had ever yet succeeded in turning

Garth Trent aside from his set purpose, whatever it might chance to be. She could not imagine his yielding to

either threats or persuasions. However much it might cost him, he would carry out his intention to the bitter

end, even though its fulfillment might involve the shattering of the whole significance of life.

"Besides,"his voice cut across the familiar tenor of her thoughts "Kent will probably stop to dine at

"Ohh!" A gasp of horrified recollection escaped her. "I never thought of it! Of course you've had no

"Well, we'll even matters up by having some sandwiches together presently. Mrs. Judson has packed some

Sara was silent, inwardly dwelling on the fact that no least detail ever seemed to escape Garth's attention.

Even in the hurry of their departure, and with the whole scheme of Molly's rescue to envisage, he had yet

An hour later they pulled up at the principal hotel of the first big town on the route, and Garth elicited the fact

that a car answering to the description of Lester Kent's had stopped there, but only for a bare ten minutes

"They've been here and gone straight on," he reported to Sara. "Evidently Kent's taking no chances"grimly.

Dusk deepened into dark, and the car's great headlights cut out a blazing track of gold in front of them as they

rushed along the pale ribbon of road that stretched aheadmile after interminable mile.

On either side, dark woods merged into the deeper darkness of the encroaching night, seeming to slip past

them like some ghostly marching army as the car tore its way between the ranks of shadowy trunks.

Overhead, a few stars crept out, puncturing the expanse of darkening skypale, tremulous sparks of light in

contrast with the steady, warmly golden glow that streamed from the lights of the car.

"Why are you stopping?" Sara's voice, shrilling a little with anxiety, came to him out of the darkness.

"I'm not stopping. I'm only slowing down a bit, because I think it's quite feeding time. Do you mind opening

those two leather attachments fixed in front of you? Such nectar and ambrosia as Mrs. Judson has provided is

Sara leaned forward, and unbuckling the lid of a flattish leather case which, together with another containing

a flask, was slung just opposite her, withdrew from within it a silver sandwichbox. She snapped open the lid

"Help yourself. Anddo you mind"he spoke a little uncertainly and the darkness hid the expression of his

face from her"handing me my sharein pieces suitable for human consumption? This is a bad bit of road,

In silence Sara broke the sandwiches and fed him, piece by piece, while he bent over the wheel, driving

The little, intimate action sent a curious thrill through her. It seemed in some way to draw them together,

effacing the memory of those weeks of bitter indifference which lay behind them. Such a thing would have

been grotesquely impossible of performance in the atmosphere of studied formality supplied by their

An instant later she felt his lips brush her fingers in a sudden, burning kiss, and she withdrew her hand as

She was tingling from head to foot, every nerve of her athrill, and for a moment she felt as though she hated

him. He had been so kind, so friendly, so essentially the good comrade in this crisis occasioned by Molly's

flight, and now he had spoilt it allplaying the lover once more when he had shown her clearly that he

Apparently he sensed her attitudethe quick withdrawal of spirit which had accompanied the more physical

She made no answer, and presently she felt the car sliding slowly to a standstill. A sudden panic assailed her.

"What is it? What are you doing?" she asked, quick fear in her sharply spoken question.

"Excuse me," he said drily, "but you are. You don't trust me in the slightest degree. Well"she could guess,

rather than see, the shrug which accompanied the words"I can't blame you. It's my own fault, I suppose."

He braked the car, and she quivered to a dead stop, throbbing like a live thing in the darkness.

"You must forgive me for being so material," he went on composedly, "but I want a drink, and I'm not

acrobat enough to manage that, even with your help, while we're doing thirty miles an hour."

He lifted out the flask, and, when they had both drunk, Sara meekly took it from him and proceeded to adjust

the screw cap and fit the silver cup back into its place over the lower half of the flask.

Simultaneously she felt the car begin to move forward, and then, quite how it happened she never knew, but,

fumbling in the darkness, she contrived to knock the cup sharply against the flask, and it flew out of her hand

and over the side of the car. Impulsively she leaned out, trying to snatch it back as it fell, and, in the same

instant, something seemed to give way, and she felt herself hurled forward into space. The earth rushed up to

meet her, a sound as of many waters roared in her ears, and then the blank darkness of unconsciousness

The words, percolating slowly through the thick, blankety mist that seemed to have closed about her,

impressed themselves on Sara's mind with a vague, confused suggestion of their pertinence. It was as though

some oneshe wasn't quite sure whohad suddenly given voice to her own immediate sensation of relief.

At first she could not imagine for what reason she should feel so specially grateful and relieved. Gradually,

however, the mists began to clear away and recollection of a kind returned to her.

She remembered dropping somethingshe couldn't recall precisely what it was that she had dropped, but she

knew she had made a wild clutch at it and tried to save it as it fell. Thenshe was remembering more

distinctly nowsomething against which she had been leaningshe couldn't recall what that was,

eithergave way suddenly, and for the fraction of a second she had known she was going to fall and be

And now, it seemed, she had not been hurt at all! She was in no pain; only her head felt unaccountably heavy.

But for that, she was really very comfortable. Some one was holding herit was almost like lying back in a

Ah! She knew now! They were on the island together, and he had just asked her if she cared. Of course she

cared! It was sheer happiness to lie in his arms, with closed eyes, and hear his voicethat deep, unhappy

No, that couldn't be right, after all, because it wasn't Garth who loved her. He had only pretended to care for

her by way of amusing himself. It must be Tim who was talking to herTim, whom she was going to marry.

Then, suddenly, the mists cleared quite away, and Sara came back to full consciousness and to the knowledge

Her first instinct, to open her eyes and speak, was checked by a swift, unexpected movement on the part of

Garth. All at once, he had gathered her up into his arms, and, holding her face pressed close against his own,

was pouring into her ears a torrent of burning, passionate words of lovelove triumphant, worshipping,

agonizing, and last of all, brokenly, desperately abandoning all right or claim.

"And I've got to live without you . . . die without you . . . My God, it's hard!"

In the darkness and solitude of the nightas he believed, alone with the unconscious form of the woman he

loved in his armsGarth bared his very soul. There was nothing hidden any longer, and Sara knew at last

Sara stirred a little and opened her eyes. Deep within herself she was ashamed of those brief moments of

assumed unconsciousnessthose moments which had shown her a strong man's soul stripped naked of all

But, none the less, she felt gloriously happy. Nothing could ever hurt her badly again. Garth loved her!

Since, for some reason, he himself would never have drawn aside the veil and let her know the truth, she was

gladglad that she had peered unbidden through the rent which the stress of the moment had torn in his iron

selfcommand and reticence. Just as she had revealed herself to him on the island, in a moment of equal

"I'm all right," she announced, struggling into a sitting position. "I'm not hurt."

"Sit still a minute, while I fetch you some brandy from the car." Garth spoke in a curiously controlled voice.

He was back again in a moment, and the raw spirit made her catch her breath as it trickled down her throat.

"Thank God we had only just begun to move," he said. "Otherwise you must have been halfkilled."

"The door came open. That damned fool, Judson, didn't shut it properly. Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"Molly! Good Heavens, how much time have we wasted? How long has this silly business taken?" she

Garth surveyed her oddly in the glow of one of the car's sidelights, which he had carried back with him

"Five minutes, I should think," he said, adding under his breath: "Or half eternity!"

She took a few steps in the direction of the car, then stopped and wavered. She felt curiously shaky, and her

In a moment Garth was at her side, and had lifted her up in his arms. He carried her swiftly across the few

yards that intervened between them and the car, and settled her gently into her seat.

"Of course I do. We mustbring Molly back." Even her voice refused to obey the dictates of her brain, and

He restarted the car, and, taking his seat once more at the wheel, drove on at a smooth and easy pace.

Sara leaned back in silence at his side, conscious of a feeling of utter lassitude. In spite of her anxiety about

Molly, a curious contentment had stolen over her. The long strain of the past weeks had endedended in the

knowledge that Garth loved her, and nothing else seemed to matter very much. Moreover, she was physically

exhausted. Her fall had shaken her badly, and she wanted nothing better than to lie back quietly against the

padded cushions of the car, lulled by the rhythmic throb of the engine, and glide on through the night

Presently her quiet, even breathing told that she slept, and Garth, stooping over her to make sure, accelerated

the speed, and soon the car shot forward through the darkness at a pace which none but a driver very certain

When, an hour later, Sara awoke, she felt amazingly refreshed. Only a slight headache remained to remind

"Nearly at our journey's end, I take it," he replied grimly, suddenly slackening speed. "There's a stationary car

ahead there on the left, do you see? That will be our friends, I expect, held up by petrol shortage, thanks to

Sara peered ahead, and on the edge of the broad ribbon of light that stretched in front of them she could

discern a big car, drawn up to one side of the road, its headlights shut off, its sidelights glimmering

Exactly as they drew level with it, Garth pulled up to a standstill. Then a muttered curse escaped him, and

"What can have become of them?" she exclaimed. She glanced round her as though she half suspected that

Meanwhile Garth had peered into the tank and was examining the petrol cans stowed away in the back of the

"Run dry!" he announced, coming back to his own car. "That's what has happened."

"Faint heart!" he chided. "What can we do now? Why, ask ourselves what Kent would naturally have done

"I don't know what he could doin the middle of nowhere?" she answered doubtfully.

"Only we don't happen to be in the middle of nowhere! We're just about a couple of miles from a market

town where abides a nice little inn whence petrol can be obtained. Kent and Miss Molly have doubtless

trudged there on foot, and wakened up mine host, and they'll hire a trap and drive back with a fresh supply of

oil. By Jove!"with a grim laugh"How Kent must have cursed when he discovered the trick Brady played

Ten minutes later, leaving their car outside, Garth and Sara walked boldly up to the inn of which he had

spoken. The door stood open, and a light was burning in the coffeeroom. Evidently some one had just

Sara stepped quickly over the threshold and then paused, swept by an infinite compassion and tenderness

Molly was sitting hunched up in a chair, her face half hidden against her arm, every drooping line of her

slight young figure bespeaking weariness. She had taken off her hat and tossed it on to the table, and now she

At the sound of Sara's voice she opened big, startled eyes and stared incredulously.

"You? How did you come here?" she stammered. Then, realization waking in her eyes: "But I'm not coming

back with you. We've only stopped for petrol. Lester's outside, somewhere, seeing about it now. We're

"Yes, I know. But you're not going on with Mr. Kent"very gently "you're coming home with us."

Molly drew herself up, flaring passionate young defiance, talking glibly of love, and marriage, and living her

own lifeall the beautiful, romantic nonsense that comes so readily to the soft lips of youth, the beckoning

rose and gold of sunriseand of miragewhich is all youth's untrained eyes can see.

Sara was getting desperate. The time was flying. At any moment Kent might return. Garth signaled to her

"You must tell her," he said gruffly. "If Kent returns before we go, we shall have a scene. Get her away

"My dear," she said pitifully. "You can never marry Lester Kent, becausebecause he has a wife already."

But she did believe it, nevertheless. No one who knew Sara could have looked into her eyes at that moment

and doubted that she was speaking not only what she believed to be, but what she knew to be, the ugly truth.

Suddenly Molly crumpled up. As, between them, Garth and Sara hurried her away to the car, there was no

longer anything of the regal young goddess about her. She was just a childa tired, frightened child whose

eyes had been suddenly opened to the quicksands whereon her feet were set, and, like a child, she turned

instinctively and clung to the dear, familiar people from home, who were mercifully at hand to shield her

when her whole world had suddenly grown new and strange and very terrible. . . .

On, on through the night roared the big car, with Garth bending low over the wheel in front, while, in the

A few questions had elicited the whole foolish story of Lester Kent's infatuation, and of the steps he had

taken to enmesh poor simple hearted Molly in the toilsfirst, by lending her money, then, when he found

that the loan had scared her, by buying her pictures and surrounding her with an atmosphere of adulation

which momentarily blinded her from forming any genuine estimate either of the value of his criticism or of

Once the head resting against Sara's shoulder was lifted, and a wistfully incredulous voice asked, very low

And later, as they were nearing home, Molly's hardlybought philosophy of life revealed itself in the brief

"Probably Mr. Kent has found that outby this time," replied Sara with a grim flash of humour.

A faint, involuntary chuckle in response premised that ultimately Molly might be able to take a less

It was between two and three in the morning when at length the travelers climbed stiffly out of the car at the

gateway of Sunnyside and made their way up the little tiled path that led to the front door. The latter opened

noiselessly at their approach and Jane, who had evidently been watching for them, stood on the threshold.

Her small, beady eyes were redrimmed with sleeplessnessand with the slow, difficult tears that now and

again had overflowed as hour after hour crawled by, bringing no sign of the wanderers' returnand the

shadows of fatigue that had hollowed her weatherbeaten cheeks wrung a sympathetic pang from Sara's heart

as she realized what those long, inactive hours of helpless anxiety must have meant to the faithful soul.

"My lamb! . . . Oh! Miss Molly dear, they've brought 'ee back!" Impulsively she caught hold of Garth's

coatsleeve. "Thank God you've brought them back, sir, and now there's none as need ever know aught but

that they've been in their beds all the blessed night!" Her lips were shaking, drawn down at the corners like

A very kindly gleam showed itself in Garth's dark face as he patted the rough, red hand that clutched his

"Yes, I've brought them back safely," he said. "Put them to bed, Jane. Miss Sara's fallen out of the car and

But Sara's soreness was far the easier to bear, since it was purely physical. As she lay in bed, at last, utterly

weary and exhausted, the recollection of all the horror and anxiety that had followed upon the discovery of

Molly's flight fell away from her, and she was only conscious that had it not been for that wild nightride

which Molly's danger had compelled, she would never have known that Garth loved her.

So, out of evil, had come good; out of black darkness had been born the exquisite clear shining of the dawn.

Sara laid down her pen and very soberly reread the letter she had just written. It was to Tim Durward, telling

him the engagement between them must be at an end, and its accomplishment had been a matter of sore

embarrassment and mental struggle. Sara hated giving pain, and she knew that this letter, taking from Tim

alland it was so painfully littlethat she had ever given him, must bring very bitter pain to the man to

It was barely a month since she had promised to marry him, and it was a difficult, ungracious task, and very

Yet it was characteristic of Sara that no other alternative presented itself to her. Now that she was sure Garth

cared for herwhether their mutual love must remain for ever unfulfilled, unconsummated, or notshe

She folded and sealed the letter, and then sat quietly contemplating the consequences that it might entail.

Almost inevitably it would mean a complete estrangement from the Durwards. Elisabeth would be very

unlikely ever to forgive her for her treatment of Tim; even kindly hearted Major Durward could not but feel

sore about it; and since Garth had not asked her to marry himand showed no disposition to do any such

thingthey would almost certainly fail to understand or sympathize with her point of view.

Sara sighed as she dropped her missive into the letterbox. It meant an end to the pleasant and delightful

friendship which had come into her life just at the time when Patrick Lovell's death had left it very empty and

Two days of suspense ensued while she restlessly awaited Tim's reply. Then, on the third day, he came

himself, his eyes incredulous, his face showing traces of the white night her letter had cost him.

He was very gentle with her. There was no bitterness or upbraiding, and he suffered her explanation with a

"I believed it was only I who cared, Tim," she told him. "And so I felt free to give you what you wantedto

be your wife, if you cared to take me, knowing I had no love to give. I thought"she faltered a little"that I

might as well make someone happy! But now that I know he loves me as I love him, I couldn't marry any one

"Perhaps not. But somehow I don't mind. I am sure he must have a good reasonor else"with a flash of

"Supposing"Tim bent over her, his face rather white"supposing you findlater onthat there is some

"No, Tim, not now. Don't you see, now that I know he cares for me everything is altered. I'm not free,

now. In a way, I belong to him. Oh! How can I explain? Even though we may never marry, there is a

"I think I understand, dear," he said gently. "It's just what I should expect of you. It means the end of

everythingeverything that matters for me. ButsomehowI would not have you otherwise."

He did not stay very long after that. They talked together a little, promising each other that their friendship

"For," as Tim said, "if I cannot have the best that the world can give your love, Sara, I need not lose the

And Sara, watching him from the window as he strode away down the little tiled path, wondered why love

Elisabeth was pacing restlessly up and down the broad, flagged terrace at Barrow, impatiently awaiting Tim's

She knew his errand there. He had scarcely needed to tell her the contents of Sara's letter, so swiftly had she

summed up the immediate connection between the glimpse she had caught of Sara's handwriting and the

She moved eagerly to meet him as she heard the soft purr of the motor coming up the drive.

"Well?" she queried, slipping her arm through his and drawing him towards the terrace.

Tim looked at her with troubled eyes. He could guess so exactly what her attitude would be, and he was not

going to allow even Elisabeth to say unkind things about the woman he loved. If he could prevent it, she

Very gently, and with infinite tact, he told her the result of his interview with Sara, concealing so far as might

To his relief, his mother accepted the facts with unexpected tolerance. He could not see her expression, since

her eyes veiled themselves with downdropped lids, but she spoke quite quietly and as though trying to be

fair in her judgment. There was no outward sign by which her son might guess the seething torrent of anger

"But if, as you tell me, Sara doesn't expect to marry this man she cares for, surely she had been unduly hasty?

If he can never be anything to her, need she set aside all thought of matrimony?"

Tim stared at his mother in some surprise. There was a superficial worldly wisdom in the speech which he

"It seems to me rather absurd," she continued placidly. "Quixoticthe sort of romantic 'live and die unwed'

idea that is quite exploded. Girls nowadays don't wither on their virgin stems if the man they want doesn't

Tim felt almost shocked. From his childhood he had invested his mother with a kind of rarefied grace of

mental and moral qualities commensurate with her physical beauty, and her enunciation of the cynical creed

of modern times staggered him. It never occurred to him that Elisabeth was probing round in order to extract

a clear idea of Sara's attitude in the whole matter, and he forthwith proceeded innocently to give her precisely

"Sara isn't like that, mother," he said rather shortly. "It's just the the crystal purity of her outlook which

makes her what she isso absolutely straight and fearless. She sees love, and holds by what she believes its

"Perhaps not. But ifsupposing the man proves to have a wife already? He might be separated from her;

Sara doesn't seem to know much about him. Or he may have a wife in a lunatic asylum who is likely to live

for the next forty years. What then? Will Sara never marry ifif there were a circumstance like thata

"No, I don't believe she will. I don't think she would wish to. If he loves her and she him, spiritually they

would be bound to one another lovers. And just the circumstance of his being tied to another woman

would make no difference to Sara's point of view. She goes beyond material thingsor the mere physical

"You have me there, Tim," she acknowledged. "Buthesitating a little "Sara knows so little of the man,

apparently, that she may have formed a mistaken estimate of his character. Perhaps he is not really thethe

"You are a very transparent person, mother mine," he said indulgently. "But I'm afraid your hopes of finding

"I do not even know his name. But I should imagine him a man of big, fine qualities."

She spoke quietly, but her expression was curiously intent. It was as though she were gathering together her

forces, concentrating them towards some definite purpose, veiled in the inscrutable depths of those strange

"It isjust like me," she responded, a tone of halftender mockery in her voice. "Naturally I find it difficult

Tim answered her out of the fullness of the queer new wisdom with which love had endowed him.

"A man would rather be hurt by the woman he loves than humoured by the woman he doesn't love," he said

She had been very controlled, very wise and circumspect in her dealing with Tim, conscious of rawedged

nerves that would bear but the lightest of handling. But it was another woman altogether who, half anhour

The two moving factors in Elisabeth's life had been, primarily, her love for her husband, and, later on, her

love for Tim, and into this later love was woven all the passionately protective instinct of the maternal

element. She was the type of woman who would have plucked the feathers from an archangel's wing if she

thought they would contribute to her son's happiness; and now, realizing that the latter was threatened by the

fact that his love for Sara had failed to elicit a responsive fire, she felt bitterly resentful and indignant.

"I tell you, Geoffrey," she declared in low, forceful tones, "she shall marry Timshe shall! I will not have

"My dear, I shouldn't call Sara in the least a capricious woman. She knows her own heart"

"So does Tim!" broke in Elisabeth. "And, if I can compass it, he shall have his heart's desire."

"Can I not? There's little a woman cannot do for husband or child! I tell you, Geoffreyfor you, or for Tim,

to give you pleasure, to buy you happiness, I would sacrifice anybody in the world!"

She stood in front of him, her beautiful eyes glowing, and her voice was all shaken and athrill with the

tumult of emotion that had gripped her. There was something about her which suggested a tigress on the

"That's beautiful of you, darling," he replied gently. "But it's a dangerous doctrine. And I know that, really,

"You don't know me, Geoffrey," she said very slowly. "No man knows a woman, reallynot all her

thoughts." And had Major Durward, honest fellow, realized the volcanic force of passion hidden behind the

tense inscrutability of his wife's lovely face, he would have been utterly confounded. We do not plumb the

Civilisation had indeed forced the turgid river to run within the narrow channels hewn by established custom,

but, released from the bondage of convention, the soul of Elisabeth Durward was that of sheer primitive

woman, and the pivot of all her actions her love for her mate and for the manchild she had borne him.

Once, years ago, she had sacrificed justice, and honour, and a man's faith in womanhood on that same pitiless

altar of love. But the story of that sacrifice was known only to herself and one otherand that other was not

A full week had elapsed since the night of that eventful journey in pursuit of Molly, and from the moment

when Garth had given Sara into the safe keeping of Jane Crab till the moment when he came upon her by the

pergola at Rose Cottage, perched on the top of a ladder, engaged in tying back the exuberance of a Crimson

And now, as he halted at the foot of the ladder, Sara was conscious that her spirits had suddenly bounded up

"The Lavender Lady and Miles are pottering about in the greenhouse," she announced explanatorily, waving

her hand in the direction of a distant glimmer of glass beyond the high box hedge which flanked the

"Are they?" Trent, thus arrested in the progress of his search for his host and hostess, seemed entirely

indifferent as to whether it were ever completed or not. He leaned against one of the rosewreathed pillars of

"She is just beginning to discard sackcloth and ashes for something more becoming," she informed him

"That's good. Are youare you all right after your tumble? I'm making these kind inquiries because, since it

"It has taken precisely seven days, apparently, for that sense of responsibility to develop."

"On the contrary, for seven days my thirst for knowledge has been only restrained by the pointings of

"Perhaps it wasdiscretion," he suggested. "Looking in at shop windows when one has an empty purse is a

Half absently he had cut off a piece of dead wood from the rosebush next him and was twisting it idly to and

fro between his fingers. At her words, the dead wood stem snapped suddenly in his clenched hand. For an

instant he seemed about to make some passionate rejoinder. Then he slowly unclenched his hand and the

"Haven't I made it clear to youyet," he said slowly, "that what I want doesn't enter into the scheme of

The brief speech held a sense of impending finality, and, in the silence which followed, the eyes of the man

There are moments when modesty is a false quantity, and when the big happinesses of life depend on a

woman's capacity to realize this and her courage to act upon it. To Sara, it seemed that such a moment had

"No," she said quietly. "You have only made clear to mewhat you want, Garth. Need wepretend to each

"Don't you?" She drew a littler nearer him, and the face she lifted to his was very white. But her eyes were

For an instant he stared at her, incredulous. Then he swung aside a little, his hand gripping the pillar against

which he had been leaning till his knuckles showed white beneath the straining skin.

"Oh, Heaven only knows what I may have said at a moment like that," he answered carelessly, but his voice

was rough and hoarse. "A man talks wild when the woman he's with only misses death by a hair's breath."

Sara's lips upturned at the corners in a slow smilea smile that was neither mocking, nor tender, nor chiding,

but an exquisite blending of all three. She caught her breath quicklyTrent could hear its soft sibilance.

He drew back from her, violently, his underlip hard bitten. At last, after a long silence

For an instant she was shaken. Then, buoyed up by the memory of that night when she had lain in his arms

and when the agony of the moment had stripped him of all power to hide his love, she challenged his denial.

It did not seem to her that she was doing anything unusual or unwomanly. The man she loved had carried his

burden singlehanded long enough. The time had come when for his own sake as well as for hers, she must

wring the truth from him, make him break through the silence which had long been torturing them both.

The little question, almost voiceless in its intensity, clamoured loudly at his heart.

"Don't tempt me!" he cried out hoarsely. "My God! I wonder if you know how you are tempting me?"

She came a little closer to him, laying her hand on his arm, while her great, sombre eyes silently entreated

As though the touch of her were more than he could bear, his hardheld passion crashed suddenly through

He caught her in his arms, lifting her sheer off her feet against his breast, whilst his lips crushed down upon

her mouth and throat, burned against her white, closed lids, and the hard clasp of his arms about her was a

"Thenthen you do love me?" She leaned against him, breathless, her voice unsteady, her whole slender

"Love you?" The grip of his arms about her made response. "Love you? I love you with my soul and my

body, here and through whatever comes Hereafter. You are my earth and heaventhe whole meaning of

things" He broke off abruptly, and she felt his arms slacken their hold and slowly unclasp as though

"What was I saying?" The heat of passion had gone out of his voice, leaving it suddenly flat and toneless. "

'The whole meaning of things?' " He gave a curious little laugh. It had a strangled sound, almost like the cry

He turned, and, walking away from her a few paces, stood very still with his head bent and one hand covering

Overhead, the sunshine, filtering in through the green trellis of leafy twigs, flaunted gay little dancing patches

of gold on the path below, as the leaves moved flickeringly in the breeze, and where the twisted growth of a

branch had left a leafless aperture, it flung a single shaft of quivering light athwart the pergola. It gleamed

like a shining sword between the man and woman, as though dividing them one from the other and thrusting

At the sound of her voice he dropped his hand to his side and came slowly back and stood beside her. His

face was almost grey, and the tortured expression of his eyes seemed to hurt her like the stab of a knife.

"You must try to forgive me," he said, speaking very low and rapidly. "I had no earthly right to tell you that I

cared, becausebecause I can't ask you to marry me. I told you once that I had forfeited my claim to the

good things in life. That was true. And, having that knowledge, I ought to have kept away from youfor I

knew how it was going to be with me from the first moment I saw you. I fought against it in the

beginningtried not to love you. Afterwards, I gave in. but I never dreamed thatyouwould come to

"Can't you?" He smiled a little. "If you were a man who has lived under a cloud for over twenty years, who

has nothing in the world to recommend him, and only a tarnished reputation as his lifework, you, too, would

have thought it inconceivable. Anyway, I did, and, thinking that, I dared to give myself the pleasure of seeing

youof being sometimes in your company. Perhaps"grimly"it was as much a torture as a joy on

occasion. . . . But still, I was near you. . . . I could see youtouch your handserve you, perhaps, in any

little way that offered. That was all somethingsomething very wonderful to come into a life that, to all

intents and purposes, was over. And I thought I could keep myself in handnever let you know that I

"You certainly tried hard enough to convince me that you didn't," she interrupted ruefully.

"Yes, I tried. And I failed. And now, all that remains is for me to go away. I shall never forgive myself for

having brought pain into your lifeI, who would so gladly have brought only happiness. . . . God in

Heaven!"he whispered to himself as though the thought were almost blinding in the promise of ecstasy it

held"To have been the one to bring you happiness! . . ." He fell silent, his mouth wrung and twisted with

Presently her voice came to him again, softly supplicating. "I shall never forgive youif you go away and

"Haven't I?" She smileda small, wise, wonderful smile that began somewhere deep in her heart and

She leaned towards him, her hands outheld, her mouth still touched with that little, mystic smile.

But no answering hands met hers. Instead, he drew away from her and faced her, sternlipped.

"I must make you understand," he said. "You don't know what it is that you are asking. I've made shipwreck

of my life, and I must pay the penalty. But, by God, I'm not going to let you pay it, too! And if you married

me, you would have to pay. You would be joining your life to that of an outcast. I can never go out into the

world as other men may. If I did"slowly"if I did, sooner or later I should be driven awaythrust back

into my solitude. I have nothing to offernothing to giveonly a life that has been cursed from the outset.

Don't misunderstand me," he went on quickly. "I'm not complaining, bidding for your sympathy. If a man's a

fool, he must be prepared to pay for his follyeven though it means a life penalty for a moment's madness.

And I shall have to payto the uttermost farthing. Mine's the kind of debt which destiny never remits." He

paused; then added defiantly: "The woman who married me would have to share in that paymentto go out

with me into the desert in which I lie, and she would have to do this without knowing what she was paying

for, or why the door of the world is locked against me. My lips are sealed, nor shall I ever be able to break the

seal. Now do you understand why I can never ask you, or any other woman to be my wife?"

"I call it folly to ask the criminal in the dock whether he approves the judge's verdict. He's hardly likely to!"

"What then? Whythis! I don't care what you've done. It doesn't matter to me whether you are an outcast or

not. If you are, then I'm willing to be an outcast with you. Oh, GarthMy Garth! I've been begging you to

marry me all afternoon, andand" with a broken little laugh"you can't keep on refusing me!"

Before her passionate faith and trust the barriers he had raised between them came crashing down. His arms

went round her, and for a few moments they clung together and love wiped out all bitter memories of the past

"It's not right," he stammered unsteadily. "I can't accept this from you. Dear, you must let me go away. . . . I

"You will spoil it if you go away. Oh! Garth, you dear, foolish man! When will you understand that love is

the only thing that matters? If you had committed all the sins in the Decalogue, I shouldn't care! You're mine

now"jealously"my lover. And I'm not going to be thrust out of your life for some stupid scruple. Let the

It was difficult to reason coolly with her arms about him, her lips so near his own, and his great love for her

"If you should ever regret it, Sara?" he whispered. "I don't think I could bear that."

"If you could be content to live hereat Far End . . . It is just possible!" He spoke reflectively, as though

debating the matter with himself. "The curse has not followed me to this quiet little corner of the earth.

Perhapsafter all . . . Sara, could you stand such a life? Or would you always be longing to get out into the

great world? As I've told you, the world is shut to me. There's that in my past which blocks the way to any

"I have courage to face anythingwith you, Garth. But I haven't courage to face living without you."

He bent his head and kissed her on the moutha slow, lingering kiss that held something far deeper and

more enduring than mere passion. And Sara, as she kissed him back, her soul upon her lips, felt as though

"Beloved"Garth's voice, unspeakably tender, came to her through the exquisite silence of the

moment"Beloved, it shall be as you wish. Whether I am right or wrong in taking this great gift you offer

me God knows! If I am wrongthen, please Heaven, whatever punishment there be may fall on me

The summer, of all seasons of the year, is very surely the perfect time for lovers, and to Sara the days that

followed immediately upon her engagement to Garth Trent were days of unalloyed happiness.

These were wonderful hours which they passed together, strolling through the summerfoliaged woods, or

lazing on the sunbaked sands, or, perhaps, roaming the range of undulating cliffs that stretched away to the

During those hours of intimate companionship, Sara began to learn the hidden deeps of Garth's nature,

discovering the almost romantic delicacy of thought that underlay his harsh exterior.

"A transcendental fool, in other words," he amended, smiling. "Well" looking at her oddly"perhaps

you're right. But it's too late to improve me any. As the twig is bent, so the tree grows, you know."

"I don't want to improve you," Sara assured him promptly. "I shouldn't like you to be in the least bit different

So they would sit together and talk the foolish, charming nonsense that all lovers have talked since the days

of Adam and Eve, whilst from above, the sun shone down and blessed them, and the waves, lapping

Looking backward, in the bitter months that followed when her individual happiness had been caught away

from her in a whirlwind of calamity, and when the whole world was reeling under the red storm of war, Sara

could always remember the utter, satisfying peace of those golden days of early Julyan innocent,

unthinking peace that neither she nor the world would ever quite regain. Afterwards, memory would always

Sara found no hardship now in receiving the congratulations of her friendsand they fell about her like

rainwhile in the long, intimate talks she had with Garth the fact that he would never speak of the past

weighed with her not at all. She guessed that long ago he had been guilty of some mad, boyish escapade

which, with his exaggerated sense of honour and the delicate idealism that she had learned to know as an

intrinsic part of his temperamental makeup, he had magnified into a cardinal sin. And she was content to

leave it at that and to accept the present, gathering up with both hands the happiness it held.

She had written to Elisabeth, telling her of her engagement, and, to her surprise, had received the most

The remainder of the letter dealt with the practical details concerning the proposed visit, and Sara, in a little

flurry of joyous excitement, had hurried off to the Cliff Hotel and booked the best suite of rooms it contained

On her way home she encountered Garth in the High Street, and forthwith proceeded to acquaint him with her

"I've just been fixing up rooms at the 'Cliff' for a friend of mine who is coming down here," she said, as he

turned and fell into step beside her. "A woman friend," she added hastily, seeing his brows knit darkly.

"So much the better! But I could have done without the importation of any friends of yoursmale or

"Mrs. DurwardTim's mother, you know," she explained. She had confided to him the history of her brief

Trent resumed his walk, but more slowly; the buoyancy seemed suddenly gone out of his step.

"Don't you think," he said, speaking in curiously measured tones, "that, in the circumstances, it will be a little

Sara disclaimed the idea, pointing out that it was the very completeness of Elisabeth's conception of

"On Thursday. I'm very anxious for you to meet her, Garth. She is so thoroughly charming. I think it is

splendid of her not to let my broken engagement with Tim make any difference between us. Most mothers

"I wonder!" he said meditatively. "It would be very unlike Elis unlike any woman"he corrected himself

"Well"Sara laughed gaily. "Nowadays you can't compel a person to marry the man she doesn't wantnor

"But Elisabeth isn't a bit the determined type of female you're evidently imagining," protested Sara, amused.

"She is very beautiful and essentially femininerather a wonderful kind of person, I think. Wait till you see

"I'm afraid," said Trent slowly, "that I shall not see your charming friend. I have to run up to Town next week

He halted outside a tobacconist's shop. "Do you mind waiting a moment while I go in here and get some

He disappeared into the shop, and Sara stood gazing idly across the street, watching a jolly little foxterrier

enjoying a small but meaty bone he had filched from the floor of a neighbouring butcher's shop.

His placid enjoyment of the stolen feast was shortlived. A minute later a lean and truculent Irish terrier

came swaggering round the corner, spotted the succulent morsel, and, making one leap, landed fairly on top

of the smaller dog. In an instant pandemonium arose, and the quiet street reechoed to the noise of canine

The little foxterrier put up a plucky fight in defence of his prior claim to the bone of contention, but soon

superior weight began to tell, and it was evident that the Irishman was getting the better of the fray. The

foxterrier's owner, very elegantly dressed, watched the battle from a safe distance, wringing her hands and

calling upon all and sundry of the small crowd which had speedily collected to save her darling from the

No one, however, seemed disposed to relieve her of this officefor the Irishman was an uglylooking

customerwhen suddenly, like a streak of light, a slim figure flashed across the road, and flung itself into

the melee, whist a vibrating voice broke across the uproar with an imperative: "Let go, you brute!"

It was all over in a moment. Somehow Sara's small, strong hands had separated the twisting, growling, biting

heap of dog into its component parts of fox and Irish, and she was standing with the little foxterrier, panting

and bleeding profusely, in her arms, while one or two of the bystandersnow that all danger was

"Oh! But how brave of you!" The owner of the foxterrier rustled forward. "I can't ever thank you

"Yes. And I'm sure"volubly"he would have been torn to pieces by that great hulking brute if you hadn't

Garth, coming out of the tobacconist's shop across the way, joined the little knot of people just in time to hear

"You've no business to have a dog if you've not got the pluck to look after him!"

As she and Trent bent their steps homeward, Sara regaled him with the full, true, and particular account of the

"Foul women like that ought not to be allowed to take out a dog licence. I hate people who shirk their

"It seems to me it depends on what your duty demands of you at the moment," she rejoined. "Nerves are a

luxury. You can afford them when it makes no difference to other people whether you're afraid or not but

"I had it well rubbed into me by my Uncle Patrick," she replied. "It was his Credo."

"And yet, I can understand any one's nerves cracking suddenlyafter a prolonged strain."

"I don't think yours would," responded Sara contentedly, with a vivid recollection of their expedition to the

"Not today, I think. I had better begin to accustom myself to doing without you, as I am going away so

"I wish you were not going," she rejoined discontentedly. "I so wanted you and Elisabeth to meet. Must you

"I'm afraid I must. And it's better that I should go, on the whole. I should only be raging up and down like an

untied devil because Mrs. Durward was taking up so much of your time! Let her have you to herself for a few

Elisabeth frowned a little as she perused the letter which she had that morning received from Sara. It

contained the information that rooms in her name had been booked at the Cliff Hotel, and further, that Sara

was much disappointed that it would be impossible to arrange for her to meet Garth Trent, as he was leaving

Trent's departure was the last thing Elisabeth desired. Above all things, she wanted to meet the man whom

she regarded as the stumbling block in the path of her son, for if it were possible that anything might yet be

done to further the desire of Tim's heart, it could only be if Elisabeth, as the dea ex machina, were acquainted

She must know what manner of man it was who had succeeded in winning Sara's heart before she could hope

to combat his influence, and, if the feet of clay were there, she must see them herself before she could point

them out to Sara's loveillusioned eyes. Should she fail of making Trent's acquaintance, she would be

Elisabeth pondered the matter for some time. Finally, she dispatched a telegram, prepaying a reply, to the

proprietor of the Cliff Hotel, and a few hours later she announced to her husband that she proposed antedating

"No, don't do that. I intend taking her by surprise." Elisabeth smiled and dimpled like a child in the

possession of a secret. "I shall go down there just in time for dinner, and write to Sara the same evening."

"What an absurd lady you are still, Beth!" he exclaimed, his honest face beaming adoration. "No one would

"Wouldn't they?" For a moment Elisabeth's eyesveiled, enigmatical as everrested on Tim's distant

figure, where he stood deep in the discussion of some knotty point with the head gardener. Then they came

back to her husband's face, and she laughed lightly. "Everybody doesn't see me through the rosecoloured

"There are no 'rosecoloured spectacles' about it," protested Geoffrey energetically. "No one on earth would

take you for a day more than thirtyif it weren't for the solid fact of Tim's six feet of bone and muscle!"

"Geoffrey, you're a great dear," she declared warmly. "Now I must run off and tell Fanchette to pack my

So it came about that on the following Tuesday, Sara, to her astonishment and delight, received a letter from

"Why, Elisabeth is already here!" she exclaimed, addressing the family at Sunnyside collectively. "She came

"That's good. You will be able, after all, to bring off the projected meeting between Mrs. Durward and your

hermitwho, by the way, seems to have deserted his shell nowadays," he added, twinkling.

And Sara, blissfully unaware that in this instance Elisabeth had abrogated to herself the rights of destiny,

Half an hour later she presented herself at the Cliff Hotel, and was conducted upstairs to Mrs. Durward's

Elisabeth welcomed her with all her wonted charm and sweetness. There was a shade of gravity in her

manner as she spoke of Sara's engagement, but no hint of annoyance. She dwelt solely on Tim's

disappointment and her own, exhibiting no bitterness, but only a rather wistful regret that another had

"And now," she said, drawing Sara out on to the balcony, where she had been sitting prior to the latter's

Sara found it a little difficult to describe the man she loved to the mother of the man she didn't love, but

finally, by dint of skilful questioning, Elisabeth elicited the information she sought.

"Fortythree!" she exclaimed, as Sara vouchsafed his age. "But that's much too old for you, my dear!"

"It seems so to me," persisted Elisabeth, regarding her with judicial eyes. "Somehow you convey such an

impression of youth. You always remind me of spring. You are so slim and straight and vitallike a young

sapling. However, perhaps Mr. Trent also has the faculty of youth. Youth isn't a matter of years, after all," she

"And he's got queer eyestawnycoloured like a dog's," she wound up, "with a quaint little patch of blue

Elisabeth leaned forward, and beneath the soft laces of her gown the rise and fall of her breast quickened

"Yesit sounds as though the colours had run, doesn't it?" pursued Sara, laughing a little. "But it's really

"And did you say his name was TrentGarth Trent?" asked Elisabeth. She had gone a little grey about the

mouth, and she moistened her lips with her tongue before speaking. There was a tone of incredulity in her

"It's rather a curious one," agreed Elisabeth with an effort. "I'm really quite longing to meet this odd man with

"You shall see him today," Sara promised. "Audrey Maynard is giving a picnic in Haven Woods, and Garth

"I think I must," replied Elisabeth. "Although"negligently"picnics are not much in my line."

"Oh, Audrey's picnics aren't like other people's," rejoined Sara reassuringly. "She runs them just as she runs

everything else, on lines of combined perfection and informality! The lunch will be the production of a

"Very well, I'll comeif you're sure Mrs. Maynard won't object to the introduction of a complete stranger."

"Have you ever met any one who 'objected' to you yet?" she asked with some amusement.

Elisabeth made no answer. Instead, she pointed to the Monk's Cliff, where the grey stone of Far End gleamed

"Who lives there?" she asked. Sara's eyes followed the direction of her hand, and she smiled.

"Ohh!" Elisabeth drew a quick breath. "It's a grimlooking place," she added, after a moment. "Rather

"Garth is fond of solitude," replied Sara simply, and she missed the swift, searching glance instantly leveled

When at length she took her departure, it was with a promise to return later on with Molly and Dr. Selwyn, so

that they could all four walk out to Haven Woods togethersince the doctor had undertaken to get through

Elisabeth accompanied her visitor to the head of the stairs, and then, returning to her room, stepped out on to

the balcony once more. For a long time she stood leaning against the balustrade, gazing thoughtfully across

"Garth Trent!" she murmured. "Trent! . . . And eyes with patches of blue in them! . . . Heavens! Can it

There was a curious quality in her voice, a blending of incredulity and distaste, and yet something that

Across her mental vision flitted a memory of just such eyesgay, laughing, lovelit eyes, out of which the

It was a merry party which had gathered together in the shady heart of Haven Woods. The Selwyns, Sara and

Elisabeth, Miles Herrick and the Lavender Lady were all there, and, in addition, there was a large and

lighthearted contingent from Greenacres, where Audrey was entertaining a houseful of friends. Only Garth

Two young subalterns on leave and a couple of pretty American sisters, all of them staying at Greenacres,

were making things hum, nobly seconded in their efforts by Miles Herrick, who had practically recovered

Every one seemed bubbling over with goodhumour and high spirits, so that the dell reechoed to the shouts

of jolly laughter, while the birds, flitting nervously hither and thither, wondered what manner of creatures

these were who had invaded their quiet sanctuary of the woods. And presently, when the whole party

gathered round the white cloth, spread with every dainty that the inspired mind of Audrey's chef had been

able to devise, and the popping corks began to punctuate the babble of chattering voices, they took wing and

fled incontinently. They had heard similar sharp, explosive sounds before, and had noted them as being

"Where's that wretched hermit of yours, Sara?" demanded Audrey gaily. "I told him we should lunch at one,

and it's already a quarterpast. Ah!"catching sight of a lean, supple figure advancing between the

A shout greeted Garth's approach, and the uproarious quartette composed of the two subalterns and the girls

from New York City pounded joyously with their forks upon their plates, creating a perfect pandemonium of

noise, Miles recklessly participating in the clamorous welcome, while the Lavender Lady fluttered her

handkerchief, and Sara and Audrey both hurried forward to meet the late comer. In the general excitement

nobody chanced to observe the effect which Trent's appearance had had upon one of the party.

Elisabeth had halfrisen from the grassy bank on which she had been sitting, and her face was suddenly

milkwhite. Even her lips had lost their soft rosecolour, and were parted as if an exclamation of some kind

Out of her white face, her eyes, seeming so dark that they were almost violet, stared fixedly at Garth as he

approached. Their expression was as masked, as enigmatical as ever, yet back of it there gleamed an odd

light, and it was as though some curious menace lay hidden in its quiet, slumbrous fire.

The little group composed of Audrey, Sara, and Garth had joined the main party now, and Garth was shaking

eager, outstretched hands and laughingly tossing back the shower of chaff which greeted his tardy arrival.

Then Sara, laying her hand on his arm, steered him towards Elisabeth. Some one who had been standing a

little in front of the latter, screening her from Trent's view, moved aside as they approached.

The smile that would naturally have accompanied the words was arrested ere it dawned, and involuntarily

Sara drew back before the instant, startling change in Garth's face. It had grown suddenly ashen, and his eyes

were like those of a man who, walking in some pleasant place, finds all at once, that a bottomless abyss has

For a full moment he and Elisabeth stared at each other in a silence so vital, so pregnant with some terrible

significance, that it impacted upon the whole prevailing atmosphere of carefree jollity.

A sudden muteness descended on the party, the laughing voices trailing off into affrighted silence, and in the

dumb stillness that followed Sara was vibrantly conscious of the hostile clash of wills between the man and

woman who had, in a single instant, become the central figures of the little group.

Then Elisabeth's voicethat amazingly sweet voice of hersbroke the profound quiet.

And quite deliberately, with a proud, inflexible dignity, she turned her back upon him and moved away.

Sara never forgot the few moments that followed. She felt as though she were on the brink of some crisis in

her life which had been slowly drawing nearer and nearer to her and was now acutely imminent, and

instinctively she sought to gather all her energies together to meet it. What it might be she could not guess,

but she was sure that this declared enmity between the man she loved and the woman who was her friend

"What is it? What does she mean?" she demanded swiftly, in a breathless undertone, instinctively drawing

"She means mischief, probably," he replied. "Mrs. Durward is no friend of mine."

"She shall explain," she exclaimed impetuously, and she swung aside, meaning to follow Elisabeth and

"No," he said decidedly. "Please do nothingsay nothing. For Audrey's sake we can't have a scenehere."

"Do as I say," he insisted. "Believe me, you will only make things worse if you interfere. I will make my

apologies to Audrey and go. For my sake, Sara"he looked at her intently"go back and face it out.

Compelled, in spite of herself, by his insistence, Sara reluctantly assented and, leaving him, made her way

A disjointed buzz of talk sprayed up against her ears. Every one rushed into conversation, making valiant, if

quite fruitless efforts to behave as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, while, a little apart from

Meanwhile Trent sought out his hostess, and together they moved away, pausing at last beneath the canopy of

"No words can quite meet what has just occurred," he said formally. "I can only express my regret that my

Although the whole brief scene had been utterly incomprehensible to her, Audrey intuitively sensed the bitter

hurt underlying the harshly spoken words, and the outraged hostess was instantly submerged in the friend.

"I am so sorry about it, Garth," she said gently, "although, of course, I don't understand Mrs. Durward's

"That is very kind of you!" he replied, his voice softening. "But please do not visit your very natural

indignation upon Mrs. Durward. I alone am to blame, I ought never to have renounced my role of hermit.

Unfortunately"with a brief smile of such sadness that Audrey felt her heart go out to him in a sudden rush

"No, no!" she exclaimed quickly. "We are all glad to have you with us we were so pleased whenwhen at

"Still the fact remains that I am outside the social pale. I had no business to thrust myself in amongst you.

"I decline to rest assured of anything of the kind," asserted Audrey with determination. "Don't be such a fool,

Garthor so unfair to your friends. Just because you chance to have met a women who, for some reason,

chooses to cut you, doesn't alter our friendship for you in the very least. What Mrs. Durward may have

against you I don't know and I don't care either. I have nothing against you, and I don't propose to give any

"Thank you for that," he said earnestly. "All the same, I think you will have to make up your mind to allow

yourfriend, as you are good enough to call me, to go to the wall. You, and others like you, dragged him

out, but, believe me, his place is not in the centre of the room. There are others besides Mrs. Durward who

"I don't care to know it," responded Audrey firmly. "In fact, I should decline to recognize any reason against

my calling you friend. I don't intend to let you go, nor will Miles, you'll find."

"We all areonce you get to know us," returned Audrey, persistently cheerful. "And SaraSara won't let

"If you don't mind," he said quickly, "we won't talk about Sara. And I won't keep you any longer from your

guests. It wasjust like youto take it as you have done, Audrey. And if, later on, you find yourself

obliged to revise your opinion of meI shall understand. And I shall not resent it."

He wrung her hand, and, turning, walked swiftly away through the wood, while Audrey retraced her footsteps

She was feeling extremely annoyed at what she considered to be Mrs. Durward's hasty and inconsiderate

action. It was unpardonable of any one thus to spoil the harmony of the day, she reflected indignantly, and

then she looked up and met Elisabeth's misty, hyacinth eyes, full of a gentle, appealing regret.

"Mrs. Maynard, I must beg you to try and pardon me," she said, approaching with a charming gesture of

apology. "I have no excuse to offer except that Mr. Trent is a man II cannot possibly meet." She paused

and seemed to swallow with some difficulty, and of a sudden Audrey was conscious of a thrill of totally

unexpected compassion. There was so evidently genuine pain and emotion behind the hesitating apology.

"I am sorry you should have been distressed," she replied kindly. "It has been a most unfortunate affair all

"If you will forgive me," she said, "I will say goodbye now. I am sure you will understand my

"Oh no, you mustn't think of such a thing," cried Audrey hospitably, though within herself she could not but

acknowledge that the suggestion was a timely one. "Please don't run away from us like that."

"It is very kind of you, but reallyif you will excuse meI think I would prefer not to remain. I feel

somewhat bouleversee. And I am so distressed to have been the unwitting cause of spoiling your charming

"I would rather," persisted Elisabeth with a gentle inflexibility of purpose. "Will you give a message to Sara

for me?" Audrey nodded. "Ask her to come and see me tomorrow, and tell her thatthat I will explain."

Suddenly she stretched out an impulsive hand. "Oh, Mrs. Maynard! If you knew how much I dread

explaining this matter to Sara! Perhaps, however"her eyes took on a thoughtful expression"Perhaps,

A sense of foreboding seemed to close round Audrey's heart, as she met the gaze of the beautiful, enigmatic

eyes. What was it that Elisabeth intended to "explain" to Sara? Something connected with Garth Trent, of

course, and it was impossible, in view of the attitude Elisabeth had assumed, to hope that it could be aught

"If an explanation can be avoided, Mrs. Durward," she said rather coldly, "I think it would be much better.

The least said, the soonest mended, you know," she added, looking straight into the baffling eyes.

The two women, all at once antagonistic and suspicious of each other, shook hands formally, and Elisabeth

took her way through the woods, while Audrey rejoined her neglected guests and used her best endeavours to

convert an entertainment that threatened to become a failure into, at least, a qualified success. By dint of

infinite tact, and the loyal cooperation of Miles Herrick, she somehow achieved it, and the majority of the

Only Sara felt as though a shadow had crept out from some hidden place and cast its grey length across the

path whereon she walked, while Miles and Audrey, discerning the shadow with the clearsighted vision of

friendship, were filled with apprehension for the woman whom they had both learned to love.

Judson crossed the hall at Far End and, opening the front door, peered anxiously out into the moonlit night

Neither he nor his wife could surmise what had become of their master. He had gone away, as they knew,

with the intention of joining a picnic party in Haven Woods, but he had given no instructions that he wished

the dinnerhour postponed, and now the beautiful little dinner which Mrs. Judson had prepared and cooked

for her somewhat exigent employer had been entirely robbed of its pristine delicacy of flavour, since it had

Ten minutes later, the house door opened and closed with a bang, and Judson hastened upstairs to ascertain

his master's wishes. When he again rejoined the wife of his bosom, his face wore a look of genuine concern.

"Something's happened," he announced solemnly. "Ten years have I been in Mr. Trent's service, and never,

"What's he looking like, then?" demanded Mrs. Judson, pausing with a saucepan in her hand.

"Like a man what's been in hell," replied her husband dramatically. "He's as white as that piece of

paper"pointing to the sheet of cooking paper with which Mrs. Judson had been conscientiously removing

the grease from the chipped potatoes. "And his eyes look wild. He's been walking, toomust have walked

twenty miles or thereabouts, I should think, for he seems dead beat and his boots are just a mask of mud. His

coat's torn and splashed, as wellas if he'd pushed his way through bushes and all, without ever stopping to

"Then he'll be wanting his dinner," observed Mrs. Judson practically. "I'll dish it up'tisn't what you might

"He won't have any. 'Judson,' he says to me, 'bring me a whiskyand soda and some sandwiches. I don't

"Well, then, bless the man, look alive and get the whiskyandsoda and a tray ready whiles I cut the

sandwiches," exclaimed the excellent Mrs. Judson promptly, giving her bemused spouse a push in the

"Right you are. But I was so took aback at the master's appearance, Maria, you could have knocked me down

with a feather. I wonder if his young lady's given him his congy?" he added reflectively.

Mrs. Judson did not stay to discuss the question, but set about preparing the sandwiches, and a few minutes

later Judson carried into Trent's own particular snuggery an attractivelooking little tray and placed it on a

The man had not been far out in his reckoning when he opined that his master had walked "twenty miles or

thereabouts." When he had quitted Haven Woods, Garth had started off, heedless of the direction he took,

and, since then, he had been tramping, almost blindly, up hill and down dale, over hedges, through woods,

along the shore, stumbling across the rocks, anywhere, anywhere in the world to get away from the

maddening, devilridden thoughts which had pursued him since the brief meeting with a woman whose

hyacinth eyes recalled the immeasurable anguish of years ago and threatened the joy which the future seemed

His face was haggard. Heavy lines had graved themselves about his mouth, and beneath drawn brows his

But Judson still hesitated. There was an expression of affectionate solicitude on his usually wooden face.

"Better have one at once, sir," he said persuasively. "And I think you'll find the chicken sandwiches very

For a moment a faint, kindly smile chased away the look of intense weariness in Garth's eyes.

"You transparent old fool, Judson!" he said indulgently. "You're like an old hen clucking round. Very well,

make me a whisky, if you will, and give me one of those superlative sandwiches."

"Anything more tonight, sir? Shall I close the window?" with a gesture towards the wideopen window near

Garth shook his head, and, when at last the manservant had reluctantly taken his departure, he remained for a

Presently he stirred restlessly. Glancing round the room, his eyes fell on his violin, lying upon the table with

the bow beside it just as he had laid it down that morning after he had been improvising, in a fit of mad

He took up the instrument and struck a few desultory chords. Then, tucking it more closely beneath his chin,

he began to playa broken, fitful melody of haunting sadness, tormented by despairing chords, swept hither

and thither by rushing minor cadencesthe very spirit of pain itself, wandering, ghostlike, in desert places.

"Just hark to 'im, Maria," he muttered uneasily. "He fair makes my flesh creep with that doggoned fiddle of

But the sad strains still went on, rising and falling, while Garth paced back and forth the length of the room

and the candles flickered palely in the moonlight that poured in through the open window.

Suddenly, across the lawn a figure flitted, noiseless as a shadow. It paused once, as though listening, then

glided forward again, slowly drawing nearer and nearer until at last it halted on the threshold of the room.

Garth, for the moment standing with his back towards the window, continued playing, oblivious of the quiet

listener. Then, all at once, the feeling that he was no longer alone, that some one was sharing with him the

solitude of the night, invaded his consciousness. He turned swiftly, and as his glance fell upon the silent

figure standing at the open window, he slowly drew his violin from beneath his chin and remained staring at

It was a woman who had thus intruded on his privacy. A scarf of black lace was twisted, hoodlike, about her

head, and beneath its fragile drapery was revealed the beautiful face and haunting, mysterious eyes of

Elisabeth Durward. She had flung a long black cloak over her evening gown, and where it had fallen a little

The mystical, transfiguring touch of the moon's soft light had eliminated all signs of maturity, investing her

with an amazing look of youth, so that for an instant it seemed to Trent as though the years had rolled back

and Elisabeth Eden, in all the incomparable beauty of her girlhood, stood before him.

He gazed at her in utter silence, and the brooding eyes returned his gaze unflinchingly.

The words burst from him at last in a low, tense whisper, and, as if the sound broke some spell that had been

holding both the man and woman motionless, Elisabeth stepped across the threshold and came towards him.

She drew a little nearer, then paused, her hand resting on the table, and looked at him with a strange,

He winced sharply at the sound of the name by which she had addressed him, then, recovering himself, faced

"I have no welcome for you," he said in measured tones. "Why should I have? All that was between us two . .

"No!" she cried out. "No! Not all! There is still my son's happiness to be reckoned."

"Your son's happiness?" He stared at her amazedly. "What has your son's happiness to do with me?"

"And have you come here to blame me for the fact that she does not return his love?"with an accent of

"No, I don't blame you. But if it had not been for you she would have married him. They were engaged, and

then"her voice shook a little "you came! You cameand robbed Tim of his happiness."

"An instance of the grinding of the mills of God," he said lightly. "You robbed meyou'll agree?of

something I valued. And now inadvertentlyI have robbed you in return of your son's happiness. It

appears"consideringly"an unusually just dispensation of Providence. And the sins of the parents are

visited on the child, as is the usual inscrutable custom of such dispensations."

Elisabeth seemed to disregard the bitter gibe his speech contained. She looked at him with steady eyes.

"Indeed?" The indifferent, drawling tone was contradicted by the sudden dangerous light that gleamed in the

Her eyes came back to his face. There was an eager light in them, and when she spoke the words hurried from

"Oh, it would be so easy, Maurice! You have only to convince Sara that you are not fit to marry heror any

woman, for that matter! Tell her what your reputation istell her why you can never show yourself amongst

your fellow men, why you live here under an assumed name. She won't want to marry you when she knows

"You meanlet me quite understand you, Elisabeth"Trent spoke with curious precision"that I am to

blacken myself in Sara's eyes, so that, discovering what a wolf in sheep's clothing I am, she will break off our

"It's a charming programme," he commented. "But it doesn't seem to me that you have considered Sara at all

in the matter. It will hardly add to her happiness to find that she has given her heart towhat shall we

"Of, of course, she will be upset, disillusionnee, for a time. She will suffer. But then we all have our share of

suffering. Sara cannot hope to be exempt. And afterwardsafterwards"her eyes shining"she will be

"And so you are prepared to cause all this suffering, Sara's and mine though I suppose"with a bitter

inflection"that last hardly counts with you!in order to secure Tim's happiness?"

"You don't understand," she muttered. "You don't understand. I'm his mother. And I want him to be happy."

"I am sorry," he said, "that I cannot help you. But I'm afraid Tim's happiness isn't going to be purchased at

my expense. I haven't the least intention of blackening myself in the eyes of the woman I love for the sake of

He gestured as though to indicated that she should precede him to the window by which she had entered. But

she made no movement to go. Instead she flung back her cloak as though it were stifling her, and caught him

"Maurice! Maurice! For God's sake, listen to me!" Her voice was suddenly shaken with passionate entreaty.

"Use some other method, then! Break with her some other way! If you only knew how I hate to ask you

thisI who have already brought only sorrow and trouble into your life! But Timmy sonhe must come

first!" She pressed a little closer to him, lifting her face imploringly. "Maurice, you loved me oncefor the

Quietly, inexorably, he disengaged himself from the eager clasp of her hand. Her beautiful, agonized face, the

"You are making a poor argument," he said coldly. "You are making your request in the name of a love that

"Do you mean"she stared at him"that you have not caredat all since?" She spoke incredulously.

Then, suddenly, she laughed. "And I what a fool I was!I used to grieveoftenthinking how you

"Perhaps I did," he responded shortly. "Death has its painseven the death of first love. My love for you

"And you will not do what I ask for the sake of the love youonce gave me?" There was a desperate

"Then you drive me into doing what I hate to do!" she exclaimed fiercely. She was silent for a moment,

standing with bowed head, her mouth working painfully. Then, drawing herself up, she faced him again.

There was something in the lithe, swift movement that recalled a panther gathering itself together for its

"Listen!" she said. "If you will not find some means of breaking off your engagement with Sara, then I shall

tell her the whole storytell her what manner of man it is she proposes to make her husband!"

There was a supreme challenge in her tones, and she waited for his answer defiantlyher head flung back,

In the silence that followed, Trent drew away from herslowly, repugnantly, as though from something

"You wouldn'tyou couldn't do such a thing!" he exclaimed in low, appalled tones of unbelief.

"I could!" she asserted, though her face whitened and her eyes flinched beneath his contemptuous gaze.

"But it would be a vile thing to do," he pursued, still with that accent of incredulous abhorrence. "Doubly vile

"Do you think I don't know thatdon't realize it?" she answered desperately. "You can say nothing that

could make me think it worse than I do already. It would be the basest action of which any woman could be

guilty. I recognize that. And yet"she thrust her face, pinched and strainedlooking, into his"and yet I

shall do it. I'd take that sinor any otheron my conscience for the sake of Tim."

Trent turned away from her with a gesture of defeat, and for a moment or two he paced silently backwards

"Do you realize what it means?" she went on urgently. "You have no way out. You can't deny the truth of

"No," he acknowledged harshly. "As you say, I cannot deny it. No one knows that better than yourself."

Suddenly he turned to her, and his face was that of a man in uttermost anguish of soul. Beads of moisture

"Haven't I suffered enoughpaid enough?" he burst out passionately. "You've had your pound of flesh. For

God's sake, be satisfied with that! LeaveGarth Trentto build up what is left of his life in peace!"

The roughened, tortured tones seemed to unnerve her. For a moment she hid her face in her hands,

shuddering, and when she raised it again the tears were running down her cheeks.

"I can'tI can't!" she whispered brokenly. "I wish I could . . . you were good to me once. Oh! Maurice, I'm

not a bad woman, not a wicked woman . . . but I've my son to think of . . . his happiness." She paused,

mastering, with an effort, the emotion that threatened to engulf her. "Nothing else countsnothing! If you go

"So I'm to payfirst for your happiness, and now, more than twenty years later, for your son's. You don't

He had himself in hand now. The momentary weakness which had wrenched that brief, anguished appeal

from his lips was past, and the dry scorn of his voice cut like a lash, stinging her into hostility once more.

"I have given you the chance to break with Sara yourselfon any pretext you choose to invent," she said

hardly. "You've refused" She hesitated. "You dostill refuse, Maurice?" Again the note of pleading, of

appeal in her voice. It was as though she begged of him to spare them both the consequences of that refusal.

He stooped, and, picking up her cloak which had fallen to the floor, held it for her to put on. He had

Elisabeth drew the cloak around her and moved slowly towards the window. Outside, the tranquil moonlight

still flooded the garden, the peaceful quiet of the night remained all undisturbed by the fierce conflict of

"One thing more"she paused on the threshold as Trent spoke again "You will not blacken the name

"No!" It was as though she had struck the unuttered word from his lips. "Did you think I should? Those who

bear it have suffered enough. There's no need to drag it through the mire a second time."

With a quick movement she drew her cloak more closely about her, and stepped out into the garden. For a

moment Garth watched her crossing the lawns, a slender, upright, swiftly moving shadow. Then a clump of

bushes, thrusting its wall of darkness into the silver sea of moonlight, hid her from his sight, and he turned

back into the room. Stumblingly he made his way to the chimneypiece, and, resting his arms upon it, hid his

For a long time he remained thus, motionless, while the grandfather clock in the corner ticked away

indifferently, and one by one the candles guttered down and went out in little pools of grease.

When at last he raised his face, it looked almost ghastly in the moonlight, so lined and haggard was it, and its

sternly set expression was that of a man who had schooled himself to endure the supreme ill that destiny may

"Of course, there could be but one ending to it all. The man to whom you have promised yourselfGarth

As she finished speaking, Elisabeth's hands, which had been tightly locked together upon her knee, relaxed

and fell stiffly apart, cramped with the intensity of their convulsive pressure.

Sara sat silent, staring with unseeing eyes across the familiar bay to that house on the cliff where lived the

man whose past historythat history he had guarded so strenuously and completely from the ears of their

Mentally she was envisioning the whole scene of the story which hesitatinglyalmost unwilling, it

seemedElisabeth had poured out. She could see the lonely fort on the Indian Frontier, sparsely held by its

indomitable little band of British soldiers, and ringed about on every side by the hill tribes who had so

suddenly and unexpectedly risen in open rebellion. In imagination she could sense the hideous tension as day

succeeded day and each dawning brought no sign of the longedfor relief forces. Indeed, it was not even

known if the messengers sent by the officer in command had got safely through to the distant garrison to

deliver his urgent message asking succour. And each evening found those who were besieged within the fort

with diminished rations, and diminished hope, and with one or more dead to mark the enemy's unceasing

And then had come the mysterious apparent withdrawal of the tribesmen. For hours no sign of the enemy had

been seen, nor a single fugitive shot fired when one or other of the besieged had risked themselves at an

unguarded aperture, whereas, until that morning, for a man to show himself, even for a moment, had been to

Could the rebels have received word of the approach of a relieving force, whispers of a punitive expedition

on its way, and so stolen stealthily, discreetly away in the silence of the night?

The hearts of the little beleaguered force rose high with hope, but again morning drew to evening without

bringing sight or sound of succour. Only the enemy persisted in that strange, unbroken silence, and, at last, a

hasty council of war was held within the fort, and Garth Trent, together with a handful of men, had been

Sara could picture the little party stealing out on their dangerous erranddangerous, indeed, if the

withdrawal of the tribesmen were but a bluff, a scheme devised to lull the besieged into a false sense of

security in order to attack them later at a greater disadvantage. And thenthe sudden spit of a rifle, a ringing

fusillade of shots in the dense darkness! The reconnaissance party had run into an ambuscade!

Sara could guess well the frayed nerves, the low vitality of men who were short of food, short of sleep, and

worn with incessant watching night and day. But Could it be possible that Englishmen had flinched at the

crucial momentlost their nerve and fled in wild disorder? Englishmenwho held the sacred trust of

empire in their handsto show the white feather to a horde of rebel natives! It was inconceivable! Sara,

reared in the great tradition by that gallant gentleman, Patrick Lovell, refused to credit it.

Elisabeth looked at her with a pitying comprehension of the blow she had just dealt her.

"I'm afraid," she said gently, almost deprecatingly, "that there is no questioning the finding of the

courtmartial. Garth must have lost his head at the unexpectedness of the attack. And panic is a curious,

"My dear," she said, "there is no possibility of doubt. Garth was wounded; they brought him in

afterwardsshot in the back! . . . Oh! It was all a horrible business! And the most wretched part of it all was

that in reality they were only a few stray tribesmen whom our men had encountered. Perhaps Garth thought

they were outnumberedI don't know. But anyway, coming on the top of all that had gone before, the

surprise attack in the darkness broke his nerve completely. He didn't even attempt to make a stand. He simply

gave way. What followed was just a headlong scramble as to who could save his skin first! I shall never

forget Garth's return afterafter the courtmartial." She shuddered a little at the memory. "II was engaged

to him at the time, Sara, and I had no choice but to break it off. Garth was cashiereddisgraceddone for."

"No? It was hardly likely he would, was it? He couldn't tell you that without telling youthe rest."

Sara made no answer. She felt stunnedbeaten into helpless silence by the quiet, inexorable voice that, bit

by bit, minute by minute, had drawn aside the veil of ignorance and revealed the dry bones and rottenness

"I don't believe it!" she had cried in a futile effort to convince herself by the sheer reiteration of denial. But

she did believe it, nevertheless. The whole miserable story tallied too accurately with the bitterly significant

That day of the dogfight, for instance. What was it he had said? "A certain amount of allowance must be

He had told her, moreover, that he was a man who had made a shipwreck of his life, that in a moment of

follya moment of funk she knew now to be the veridical description!he had flung away the whole

chances of his life. The man whom she had loved, and, in her love, idealized, had proved himself, when the

test came, that most despicable of things, a coward! The pain of realization was almost unbearable.

Suddenly, across the utter desolation of the moment there shot a single ray of hope. She turned triumphantly

"But if it were true that Garthhad shown cowardice, why was he not shot? They shoot men for

"Excuses! For cowardice!" The lowspoken words were icy with a biting contempt. "I'm afraid I could not

"The courtmartial did, nevertheless. At the trial, the 'prisoner's friend'in this instance, Garth's colonel,

who was very fond of him and had always thought very highly of himpleaded extenuating circumstances.

Garth's youth, his previous good record, the conditions of the momentthe continuous mental and physical

strain of the days preceding his sudden loss of nerveall these things were urged by the 'prisoner's friend,'

"It would have been better if he had been shot," said Sara dully. Then suddenly she clapped both hands to her

She stumbled to her feet, her white, ravaged face turned for a moment yearningly towards Far End, where it

stood bathed in the mocking morning sunlight. Then she spun halfround, groping for support, and fell in a

When Sara came to herself again, she was lying on the bed in Elisabeth's room at the hotel. Some one had

drawn the blinds, shutting out the crude glare of the sunlight, and in the semidarkness she could feel soft

hands about her, bathing her face with something fragrantly cool and refreshing. She opened her eyes and

looked up to find Elisabeth's face bent over herunspeakably kind and tender, like that of some Madonna

"Are you feeling better?" The sweet, familiar voice roused her to the realization of what had happened. It was

the same voice that, before unconsciousness had wrapped her in its merciful oblivion, had been pouring into

her ears an unbelievably hideous storya nightmare tale of what had happened at some far distant Indian

The details of the story seemed to be all jumbled confusedly together in Sara's mind, but, as gradually full

consciousness returned, they began to sort themselves and fall into their rightful places, and all at once, with a

swift and horrible contraction of her heart, the truth knocked at the door of memory.

"My dear, you must try and face it. And"her voice shook a little "you must try and forgive me for telling

"Then it is true? Garth was courtmartialled andand cashiered?" Sara sank back against her pillows. Still,

deep within her, there flickered a faint spark of hope. Against all reason, against all common sense the faith

that was within her fought against accepting the bitter knowledge that Garth was guilty of what was in her

Unpardonable! The word started a new and overwhelming train of thought. She remembered that she had told

Garth she did not care what sin he had been guilty of, had forced him to believe that nothing could make any

difference to her love for him, to her willingness to become his wife, and share his burden. Yet now, now that

the hidden thing in his life had been revealed to her, she found herself shrinking from it in utter loathing! Her

promises of faith and loyalty were already crumbling under the strain of her knowledge of the truth.

She flinched from the recognition of the fact, seeking miserably to palliate and excuse it. When she had given

Garth that impetuous assurance of her confidence, she had not, in her crudest imaginings, dreamed of

anything so hideous and ignoble as the actual truth had proved to be. Vaguely, she had deemed him outcast

for some big, reckless sin that by the splendour of its recklessness almost earned its own forgiveness.

And insteadthis! This drabhued, pitiful weakness for which she could find no pardon in her heart.

Through the turmoil of her thoughts she became conscious that Elisabeth was stooping over her, answering

"Yes, it is true," she was saying steadily. "He was courtmartialled and cashiered. But, if you still doubt it,

Sara's hands clenched themselves. Her eyes were feverishly brilliant in her white, shrunken face.

"Yes, I'll ask him myself." She panted a little. "You must be wrong there must be some horrible mistake

somewhere. I've been madmad to believe it for a single moment." She slipped from the bed to her feet, and

stood confronting Elisabeth with a kind of desperate defiance. "Do you hear what I say?" she said loudly. "I

don't believe it. I will never believe it till Garth himself tells me that it is true."

"Oh, my dear"Elisabeth shrank away a little, but her eyes were kind and infinitely pitying. Sara felt

frightened of the pitying kindness in those eyesits rejection of Garth's innocence was so much stronger

than any asseveration of mere words. Vaguely she heard Elisabeth's patient voice: "I think you are right. Ask

The brusque, curt speech sounded a knell to the faint hope which Sara had been tending whilst she waited for

Garth's coming. His voice, the dogged expression of his face, the chill, brief manner, each held its grievous

message for the woman who had learned to recognize the signs of mental stress in the man she loved.

"Yes?" Just the one brief monosyllable in response, uttered with a slightly questioning inflection. Nothing

Sara twisted her hands together. There was something unapproachable about Garth as he stood therequiet,

"Yes? Quite a great deal happenedin my past. What was it, in particular, that she told you?"

"She told me that you had been courtmartialled and cashiered from the Armyfor cowardice." The words

"Ahh!" He drew his breath sharply, and a grey shadow seemed to spread itself over his face.

Sara waitedwaited with an intensity of longing that was wellnigh unendurablefor either the indignant

denial or the easy, mirthful scorn wherewith an innocent man might be expected to answer such a charge.

But there came neither of these. Only silencean endless, agonizing silence, while Garth stood utterly

It was impossible to interpret the expression of his eyes. There was neither anger, nor horror, nor pleading in

their cool indomitable stare, but only a hard, bright impenetrability, shuttering the soul behind it from the

In that silence, Sara's flickering hope that the accusation might prove false went out in blinding darkness. She

knew, nowknew it as certainly as though Garth had answered herthat he was unable to deny it. Still, she

"Is it true?" she questioned him. "Is it true that you werecashiered for cowardice?"

"Yes," he said. "It is true." His voice was altogether passionless, but something had come into his face, into

his whole attitude, which denied the calm passivity of his reply. The soul of the mana soul in ineffable

extremity of sufferingwas struggling for expression, striving against the rigid bonds of the motionless body

Sara could sense ita tormented flame shut in a casing of steeland she was swept by a torrent of uttermost

"Garth! Garth! But there must have been some explanation! . . . You weren't in your right senses at the

moment. Ah! Tell me" She broke off, her voice failing her, her arms outflung in a passion of entreaty.

As she leaned towards him, a tremor seemed to run through his entire bodythe tremor of leaping muscles

straining against the leash. His hands clenched slowly, the nails biting into the bruised flesh. Then he spoke,

and his voice was ringing and assuredarrogantly so. The tortured soul within him had been beaten back

"I was quite in my right sensesthat night on the Frontiernever more so, believe me"and his lips

twisted in a curious, enigmatical smile. "And as far as explanationsexcusesare concerned, the court

There was something outrageous in the open derision of the last words. He flung them at heras though

taunting, gibing at the impulse to compassion which had swayed her, sending her tremulously towards him

"The quality of mercy was not strained in the least," he continued. "It fell around me like the proverbial

"II don't know what to think!" she burst out. "That youyou should fall so lowso shamefully low."

"A man will do a good deal to preserve a whole skin, you know," he suggested hardily.

"Why do you speak like that?" she demanded in sharpened tones. "Do you want me to think worse of you

He took a step towards her and stood looking down at her with those bright, hard eyes.

"Yes, I do," he said decidedly. "I want you to think as badly of me as you possibly can. I want you to realize

just what sort of a blackguard you had promised to marry, and when you've got that really clear in your mind,

you'll be able to forget all about me and marry some cheerful young fool who hasn't been kicked out of the

"As long as I live I shall neverbe ableto forget that I loveda coward." The words came haltingly from

her lips. Then suddenly her shaking hands went up to her face, as though to shut him from her sight, and a

He made a swift stride towards her, then checked himself and stood motionless once more, in the utter

quiescence of deliberately arrested movement. Only his hands, hanging stiffly at his sides, opened and shut

convulsively, and his eyes should have been hidden. God never meant any man's eyes to wear that look of

When at last Sara withdrew her hands and looked at him again, his face was set like a mask, the lips drawn

back a little from the teeth in a way that suggested a dumb animal in pain. But she was so hurt herself that she

Something in the quiet acceptance of his tone moved her to a softer, more wistful emotion.

"If it had been anythinganything but that, Garth, I think I could have borne it."

There was a depth of appeal in the lowspoken words. But he ignored it, opposing a reckless indifference to

"Then it's just as well it wasn't 'anything but that.' Otherwise" sardonically"you might have felt

His eyes flashed over her face, mocking, deriding. He had struck where she was most vulnerable, accusing

where her innate honesty of soul admitted she had no defence, and she winced away from the speech almost

It was true she had given her promise blindly, in ignorance of the facts, but that could not absolve her. It was

not Garth who had forced the promise from her. It was she who had impetuously offered it, never conceiving

such a possibility as that he might be guilty of the one sin for which, in her eyes, there could be no palliation.

"I know," she said unevenly. "I know. You have the right to remind me of my promise. II blame myself.

She was silent a moment, standing with bent head, her instinct to be fair, to play the game, combating the

revulsion of feeling with which the knowledge of Garth's act of cowardice had filled her. When she looked up

"Marriage for usnowcould never mean anything but misery." The effort in her voice was palpable. It

was as though she were forcing herself to utter words from which her inmost being recoiled. "But I gave you

"I don't choose!" He broke in harshly. "You may spare yourself any anxiety on that score. You are freeas

free as though we had never met. I'm quite ready to bow to your decision that I'm not fit to marry you."

A little caught breath of unutterable relief fluttered between her lips. If he heard it, he made no sign.

"And now"he turned as though to leave her"I think that's all that need be said between us."

"What? Is there more still?" Again his voice held an insolent irony that lashed her like a whip. "Haven't you

It seemed as though the tremulously uttered words pierced through his armour of sneering cynicism.

"No, in that, at least, I was honest with you." The bitter note of mockery that had rung through all his former

speech was suddenly absentmuted, crushed out, and the quiet, steadfast utterance carried conviction even

"No," he said gravely. "Love can't die. But what I felt for Elisabeth was not lovenot love as you and I

understand it. It was the mad passion of a boy for an extraordinarily beautiful woman. She was an idealI

invested her with all the qualities and spiritual graces that her beauty seemed to promise. But the Elisabeth I

loveddidn't exist." He drew nearer her and, laying his hands on her shoulders, looked down at her with

eyes that seemed to burn their way into the inmost depths of her being. "Whatever you may think of me,

however low I may have fallen in your sight, believe me in thisthat I have loved you and shall always love

you, utterly and entirely, with my whole soul and body. It has not been an easy loveI fought against it with

all my strength, knowing that it could only carry pain and suffering in its train for both of us. But it

conquered me. And when you came to me that day, so courageously, holding out your hands, claiming the

love that was unalterably yourswhen you came to me like that, a little hurt and wounded because I had

been so slow to speak my loveI yielded! Before God, Sara! I had been either more or less than a man had I

The grip of his hands upon her shoulders tightened until it was actual pain, and she winced under it, shrinking

away from him. He released her instantly, and she stood silently beside him, battling against the longing to

respond to that deep, abiding love which neither now, nor ever again in life, would she be able to doubt.

That Garth loved her, wholly and completely, was an incontrovertible fact. She no longer felt the least

lingering mistrust, nor even any prick of jealousy that he had once loved before. That boyish passion of the

senses for Elisabeth was not comparable with this love which was the maturer growth of his manhooda

love that could only know fulfillment in the mystic union of body, soul, and spirit.

But this merely served to deepen the poignancy of the impending partingfor that she and Garth must part

Loving each other as men and women love but once in a lifetime, their love was destined to be for ever

unconsummated. They were as irrevocably divided as though the seas of the entire world ran between them.

Wearily, in the flat, level tones of one who realizes that all hope is at an end, she stumbled through the few

"It all seems so useless, doesn't ityour love and mine? . . . You've killed something that I felt for youI

don't quite know what to call itrespect, I suppose, only that sounds silly, because it was much more than

that. I wishI wish I didn't love you still. But perhaps that, too, will die in time. You see, you're not the man

"That's enough!" he interrupted unsteadily. "Leave it at that. You won't beat it if you try till doomsday."

The pain in his voice pierced her to the heart, and she made an impulsive step towards him, shocked into

"Oh yes, you meant it," he said. "Don't imagine that I'm blaming you. I'm not. You've found me out, that's all.

And having discovered exactly how contemptible a person I am, youvery properlysend me away."

He turned on his heel, giving her no time to reply, and a moment later she was alone. Then came the clang of

the house door as it closed behind him. To Sara, it sounded like the closing of a door between two

The consternation created at Sunnyside by the breaking off of Sara's engagement had spent itself at last.

Selwyn had said but little, only his saint's eyes held the wondering, hurt look that the inexplicable sins of

humanity always had the power to bring into them. Characteristically, he hated the sin but overflowed in

"Poor devil!" he said, when the whole story of Trent's transgression and its consequences had been revealed

to him. "What a ghastly stone to hang round a man's neck for the term of his natural life! If they'd shot him, it

would have been more merciful! That would at least have limited the suffering," he went on, taking Sara's

hand and holding it in his strong, kindly one a moment. "Poor little comrade! Oh, my dear" as she shrank

instinctively"I'm not going to talk about itI know you'd rather not. Condolence platitudes were never in

Jane Crab's opinions were enunciated without fear or favour, and, in defiance of public opinion, she took her

"Well, Miss Sara," she affirmed, "unless you've proof as strong as 'Oly Writ, as they say, I'd believe naught

against Mr. Trent. Bluff and 'ard he may be in 'is manner, but after the way he conducted himself the night

"Mrs. Durward! Huh! One of them tigris women I calls 'er," retorted Jane, who had formed her opinion with

lightning rapidity when Elisabeth made a farewell visit to Sunnyside before leaving Monkshaven. "Not but

what you can't help liking her, neither," went on Jane judicially. "There's something good in the woman, for

all she looks at you like a cat who thinks you're after stealing her kittens. But there! As the doctorbless the

man!always says, there's good in everybody if so be you'll look for it. Only I'd as lief think that Mrs.

Durward was somehow scaredliketoo almighty scared to be her natchral self, savin' now and again when

To Mrs. Selwyn, the breaking off of Sara's engagement, and the manner of it, signified very little. She

watched the panorama of other people's lives unfold with considerably less sympathetic concern than that

with which one follows the ups and downs that befall the characters in a cinema drama, since they were

altogether outside the radius of that central topic of unfailing interestherself.

The only way in which recent events impinged upon her life was in so far as the rupture of Sara's engagement

would probably mean the indefinite prolongation of her stay at Sunnyside, which would otherwise have

ended with her marriage. And this, from Mrs. Selwyn's egotistical point of view, was all to the good, since

Sara had acquired a pleasant habit of making herself both useful and entertaining to the invalid.

Molly's emotions carried her to the other extreme of the compass. Since the night when she had realized that

she had narrowly missed making entire shipwreck of her life, thanks to the evil genius of Lester Kent, her

character seemed to have undergone a changeto have deepened and expanded. She was no longer so

buoyantly superficial in her envisagement of life, and the big things reacted on her in a way which would

previously have been impossible. Formerly, their significance would have passed her by, and she would have

Side by side with this increase of vision, there had developed a very deep and sincere affection for both Garth

and Sara based, probably, in its inception, on her realization that whatever of good, whatever of happiness,

life might hold for her, she would owe it fundamentally to the two who had so determinedly kept her heedless

feet from straying into that desert from which there is no returning to the pleasant paths of righteousness. A

censorious world sees carefully to that, for ever barring out the sinnerof the weaker sexfrom inheriting

So that to this new and awakened Molly the abrupt termination of Sara's engagement came as something

almost too overwhelming to be borne. She did not see how Sara could bear it, and to her youthful mind,

mercifully unwitting that grief is one of the world's commonplaces, Sara was henceforth haloed with sorrow,

set specially apart by the tragic circumstances which had enveloped her. Unconsciously she lowered her

voice when speaking to her, infusing a certain specific sympathy into every small action she performed for

her, shrank from troubling her in any way, and altogether, in her youth and inexperience, behaved rather as

though she were in a house of mourning, where the candles yet burned in the chamber of death and the blinds

At last Sara rebelled, although compassionately aware of Molly's excellent intentions.

"Molly, my angel, if you persist in treating me as though I had just lost the whole of my relatives in an

earthquake or a wreck at sea, I shall explode. I've had a bad knock, but I don't want it continually rubbing into

me. The world will go oneven although my engagement is broken off. And I'm going on."

It was bravely spoken, and though Sara was inwardly conscious that in the last words the spirit, for the

moment, outdistanced the flesh, it served to dissipate the rather strained atmosphere which had prevailed at

So, figuratively speaking, the blinds were drawn up and life resumed its normal aspect once again.

It had fallen to the lot of Audrey Maynard to carry the illtidings to Rose Cottage. Sara had asked her to

acquaint their little circle with the altered condition of affairs, and Audrey had readily undertaken to perform

this service, eager to do anything that might spare Sara some of the inevitable pinpricks which attend even the

"The whole affair is incomprehensible to me," said Audrey at last, as she rose preparatory to taking her

departure. There seemed no object in lingering to discuss so painful a topic. "It'soh! It's heart breaking."

Miss Livinia departed hastily to do a little weep in the seclusion of her room upstairs. She hardly concerned

herself with the enormity of Garth's offence. She was old, and she saw only romance shattered into

fragments, youth despoiled of its heritage, love crucified. Moreover, the Lavender Lady had never been

Herrick had been rather silent, his brown eyes meditative. Now he looked up quickly.

"About the funking part of it? As I wasn't on the spot when the affair took place, I haven't the least right to

"Trials have been known where justice went awry," said Miles quietly. "There was a trial where Pilate was

"No, I was not meaning quite that in this case. But, because the law says a man is a blackguard, when I'd

stake my life he's nothing of the kind, it doesn't alter my opinion one hair'sbreadth. The verdict may have

beenprobably, almost certainly, wasthe only verdict that could be given to meet the facts of the case.

But still, it is possible that it was not a just verdictlabelling as a coward for all time a man who may have

had one bad moment when his nerves played him false. There are other men who have had their moment of

funk, but, as the matter never came under the official eyes, they have made good sinceended up as V.C.'s,

some of 'em. Facts are often very foolish things, to my mind. Motives, and circumstances, even conditions of

physical health, are bound to play as big a part as facts, if you're going to administer pure justice. But the

army can't consider the superadministration of justice"smiling. "Discipline must be maintained and

It was an unusually long speech for Miles to have been guilty of, and Audrey stood looking at him in some

"Miles, you're rather a dear, you know. I believe you're almost as strongly on Garth's side as Jane Crab."

"Is Jane?" And Herrick smiled. "She's a good old sport then. Anyhow, I don't propose to add my quota to the

"One can't help feeling pitifully sorry for him," she admitted. "To have had Saraand then to have lost her!"

"I imagine Garthasked for what he wanted!" she observed, and vanished precipitately through the

"Audrey!" Miles started up, but, by the time he reached the house door, she was already disappearing through

"She must have run!" he commented ruefully to himself as he returned to the sittingroom.

This discovery seemed to afford him food for reflection. For a long time he sat very quietly in his chair,

Nor had his thoughts, at the moment, any connection with the recent discussion of Garth Trent's affairs. It

was only after the Lavender Lady had returned, a little pink about the eyelids, that the recollection of the

Simultaneously, his brows drew together in a sudden concentration of thought, and an inarticulate

Miss Livinia looked up from the delicate piece of cobwebby lace she was finishing.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled back at her. "I was thinking rather hard, that's all, and just remembered

"Neither do I, Lavender Lady. That's just the devil of it," he answered cryptically.

He passed out of the room and upstairs, presently returning with a couple of letters, held together by an

They smelt musty as he unfolded them; evidently they had not seen the light of day for a good many years.

But Miles seemed to find them of extraordinary interest, for he subjected the closely written sheets to a first,

and second, and even a third perusal. Then he replaced the elastic band round them and shut them away in a

A couple of days later, Garth Trent received a note from Herrick, asking him to come and see him.

"You haven't been near us for days," it ran. "Remember Mahomet and the mountain, and as I can't come to

The letter, in its quiet avoidance of any reference to recent events, was like cooling rain falling upon a

Since the history of the courtmartial had become common property, Garth had been through hell. It was

extraordinary how quickly the story had leaked out, passing from mouth to mouth until there was hardly a

cottage in Monkshaven that was not in possession of it, with lurid and fictitious detail added thereto.

The chambermaid at the Cliff Hotel had been the primary source of information. From the further side of the

connectingdoor of an adjoining room, she had listened with interest to the conversation which had taken

place between Elisabeth and Sara on the day following the Haven Woods picnic, and had proceeded to

circulate the news with the avidity of her class. Nor had certain gossipy members of the picnic party refrained

from canvassing threadbare the significance of the unfortunate scene which had taken place on that

occasion contributory evidence to the truth of the chambermaid's account of what she had overheard.

The whole town hummed with the tale, and Garth had not long been allowed to remain in ignorance of the

fact. Anonymous letters reached him almost dailyfor it must be remembered that ten years of an aloof

existence at Monkshaven had not endeared him to his neighbours. They had resented what they chose to

consider his exclusiveness, and, now that it was so humiliatingly explained, the meaner spirits amongst them

It was suggested by one of the anonymous writers that Trent's continued presence in the district was felt to be

a blot on the fair fame of Monkshaven; and, by another, that should the rumours now flying hither and thither

concerning the imminence of a European war materialize into fact, the French Foreign Legion offered

Garth tore the letters into fragments, pitching them contemptuously into the wastepaper basket; but,

nevertheless, they were like so many gnats buzzing about an open wound, adding to its torture.

Black Brady, with a lively recollection of the few days in gaol which Trent had procured him in recompense

"Retreated, they calls it," he observed, with fine scorn. "Runned away's the plain English of it."

And with this pronouncement all the loafers round the hotel garage cordially agreed, and, subsequently, black

To all of which Garth opposed a stony indifferencesince, after all, these lesser things were of infinitely

"It was good of you to ask me over," he told Herrick, as they shook hands. "Sure you're not afraid of

"Quite sure," replied Miles, smiling serenely. "Besides, I had a particular reason for wishing to see you."

Miles unlocked the drawer where he had laid aside the papers he had perused with so much interest two days

ago, and, slipping them out of the elastic bands that held them, handed them to Trent.

There was a short silence while Trent's eyes travelled swiftly down the closely written sheets. When he

looked up from their perusal his expression was perfectly blank. Miles could glean nothing from it.

Miles reflected a moment. Then, slowly replacing the papers within the elastic band, he remarked

If he had desired to break down the other's guard of indifference, he succeeded beyond his wildest

Trent sprang to his feet, his hand outstretched as though to snatch the letters back again. His eyes blazed

"No! No! You mustn't do thatyou can't do that! It's Oh! You won't understandbut those papers

Herrick's fingers closed firmly round the papers in question, and he slipped them into the inside pocket of his

"They certainly will not be destroyed," he replied. "I hold them in trust. But, tell me, why should I not show

"Then you mean," said Herrick, breaking it at last, "that I'm to hold my tongue?"

"And if you published that information abroad, it's unfair to Tim. Have you thought of that? He, at least, is

"Not at all. I gave Elisabeth Durward my promise, and she has married and borne a son, trusting to that

"They will be, Miles, if I ask it. Don't you see, there's no going back for me now? I can't wipe out the past. I

made a bad mistakea mistake many a youngster similarly circumstanced might have made. And I've been

paying for it ever since. I must go on paying to the end it's my honour that's involved. That's why I ask you

"I forged my own fetters, Herrick," continued Trent. "In a way, I'm responsible for Tim Durward's existence

and I can't damn his chances at the outset. After all, he's at the beginning of things. I'm getting towards the

Herrick's quick glance took in the immense alteration the last few days had wrought in Trent's appearance.

The man had aged visibly, and his face was worn and lined, the eyes burning feverishly in their sockets.

"You're good for another thirty or forty years, bar accidents," said Herrick at last, deliberately. "Are you

"I've no alternative. Good Lord, man!"with savage irritability"you don't suppose I'm enjoying it, do

you? But I've no way out. I took a certain responsibility on myselfand I must see it through. I can't shirk it

"And what about Sara?" said Herrick quietly. "Has she no claim to be considered?"

He almost flinched from the look of measureless anguish that leapt into the others man's eyes in response.

"For God's sake, man, leave Sara out of it!" Garth exclaimed thickly. "I've cursed myself enough for the

suffering I've brought on her. I was a mad fool to let her know I cared. But I thought, as Garth Trent, that I

had shut the door on the past. I ought to have known that the door of the past remains eternally ajar."

"I don't think you were to blame," he said. "It's Mrs. Durward who has pulled the door wide open. She's

stolen your new life from youthe life you had built up. Trent, you owe that woman nothing! Let me show

"I can't," he said at last. "Elisabeth must be forgiven. The best woman in the world may lose all sense of right

and wrong when it's a question of her child. But, even so, I can't consent to the making public of that letter."

He rose and paced the room restlessly. "Man! Man!" he cried at last, coming to a halt in front of Herrick.

"Can't you seethat woman trusted me with her whole life, and with the life of any child that she might

bear, when she married on the strength of my promise. And I must keep faith with her. It's the one poor rag of

"You've beaten me," he said sadly. "I won't destroy the letters. As I said, they are a trust. But the secret is safe

"You'll get used to it," he commented. "Mine have been tied for three andtwenty yearsthough even yet I

He had become once more the hermit of old acquaintancesardonic, harsh, his emotions hidden beneath that

curt indifference of manner with which those who knew him were painfully familiar.

The two men shook hands in silence, and a few minutes later, Herrick, left alone, replaced the letters in the

drawer whence he had taken them, and, turning the key upon them, slipped it into his pocket.

In remote country districts that memorable Fourth of August, when England declared war on Germany, came

People read the news a trifle breathlessly, reflected with a sigh of contentment on the invincible British Navy,

and with a little gust of prideful triumph upon the Expeditionary forceready to the last burnished button of

Then came the soaring Bank Rate, and business men on holiday raced back to London to contend with the

new financial conditions and assure their credit. That was all that happenedat first.

Few foresaw that the gaunt, grim Spectre of War had come to dwell in their very midst, nor that soon he

would pass from house to house, palace and cottage alike, touching first this man, then that, on the shoulder,

with the single word "Come!" on his lips, until gradually the nations, one by one, left their tasks of peace and

Monkshaven, in common with other seaside towns, witnessed the sudden exodus of City men when the

climbing Bank Rate sounded its alarm. Beyond that, the war, for the moment, reacted very little on its daily

processes of life. There was no disorganization of amusementstennis, boating, and bathing went on much

as usual, and clever people, proud of their ability to add two and two together and make four of them,

announced that it was all explained now why certain young officers in the neighbourhood had been hurriedly

Then came the black news of that long, desperate retreat from Mons, shaking the nation to its very soul, and

in the wave of high courage and endeavour that swept responsively across the country, the smaller things

To Sara, stricken by her own individual sorrow, the war came like a rushing, mighty wind, rousing her from

the brooding, introspective habit which had laid hold of her and bracing her to take a fresh grip upon life. Its

immense demands, the illimitable suffering it carried in its train, lifted her out of the contemplation of her

own personal grief into a veritable passion of pity for the world agony beating up around her.

And, with Sara, to compassionate meant to succour. Nor did it require more than the first few weeks of war to

demonstrate where such help as she was capable of giving was most sorely needed.

She had been through a course of First Aid and held her certificate, and, thanks to a year in France when she

was seventeena muchgrudged year, at the time, since it had separated her from her beloved Patrick and

to a natural facility for the language, inherited from her French forbears, she spoke French almost as fluently

In France they were crying out for nurses, for at that period of the war there was work for any woman who

had even a little knowledge plus the grit to face the horrors of those early days, and it was to France that Sara

She had heard that an old friend of Patrick Lovell's, Lady Arronby by name, proposed equipping and taking

over to France a party of nurses, and she promptly wrote to her, begging that she might be included in the

Lady Arronby, who had been a sister at a London hospital before her marriage, recollected her old friend's

ward very clearly. Sara rarely failed to make a definite impression, even upon people who only knew her

slightly, and Lady Arronby, who had known her from her earliest days at Barrow, answered her letter without

"I shall be delighted to have you with me," she had written. "Even though you are not a trained nurse, there's

work out there for women of your caliber, my dear. So come. It will be a week or two yet before we have all

our equipment, but I am pushing things on as fast as I can, so hold yourself in readiness to come at a day's

Meanwhile, Sara's earliest personal encounter with the reality of the war came in a few hurried lines from

Elisabeth telling her that Major Durward had rejoined the Army and would be going out to France almost

Sara thrilled, and with the thrill came the answering stab of the sword that was to pierce her again and again

through the long months ahead. Garth Trentthe man she lovedcould have no part nor lot in this splendid

service of England's sons for England! The country wanted brave men nownot men who faltered when

She had not seen Garth since that daya million years ago it seemed when she had sent him from her, and

There was no getting behind that. She would have defied Elisabeth, defied a whole world of slanderous

tongues, had they accused him, if he himself had denied the charge. But he had not been able to deny it. it

was truea deadly, official truth, tabulated somewhere in the records of her country, that the man she loved

The knowledge almost crushed her, and she sometimes wondered if there could be a keener suffering, in the

whole gamut of human pain, than that which a woman bears whose high pride in her lover has been laid

The dread of danger, separationeven death itselfwere not comparable with it. Sara envied the women

whose men were killed in action. At least, they had a splendid memory to hold which nothing could ever soil

Sometimes her thoughts wandered fugitively to Tim. Surely here was his chance to break from the bondage

his mother had imposed upon him! He had not written to her of late, but she felt convinced that she would

have heard from Elisabeth had he volunteered. She was a little puzzled over his silence and inaction. He had

seemed so keen last winter at Barrow, when together they had discussed this very subject of soldiering. Could

it be that now, when the opportunity offered, Tim wasevading it? But the thought was dismissed almost as

swiftly as it had arisen, and Sara blushed scarlet with shame that the bare suspicions should have crossed her

mind, even for an instant, recognizing it as the outcrop of that bitter knowledge which had cut at the very

And there were men around her whose readiness to make the great sacrifice combated the poison of one

man's failure. Daily she heard of this or that man whom she knew, either personally or by name, having

volunteered and been accepted, and very often she had to listen to Miles Herrick's fierce rebellion against the

But it was Audrey Maynard who plumbed the full depths of bitterness in Herrick's heart. She had been

teaching him to knit, and he was floundering through the intricacies of turning his first heel when one day he

surprised her by hurling the sock, needles and all, to the other end of the room.

"There's work for a man when his country's at war! My God! Audrey, I don't know how I'm going to bear

itto lie here on my couch, knitting knitting!when men are out there dying! Why won't they take a

"My dear, war takes only the bestthe youngest and the fittest. But there's plenty of work for the women and

He met her glance, and read, at last, whatas she told him laterhe might have read there any time during

"Do you mean that, Audrey?" he asked, suddenly gripping her hands hard. "All of itall that it implies?"

"Oh, my dear!" she said, between laughing and crying. "I've been meaning it'all of it'for ever so long.

"I believe," said Audrey composedly, "we've argued both those points beforefrom a strictly impersonal

point of view! Couldn't you couldn't you get over your objection to coming to live with me at Greenacres,

Audrey always declared, afterwards, that it had required the most blatant encouragement on her part to induce

Miles to propose to her, and that, but for the warwhich convinced him that he was of no use to any one

Presumably she was able to supply the requisite stimulus, for when the Lavender Lady joined them later on in

the afternoon, she found herself called upon to perform that function of sheer delight to every old maid of the

Sara received the news the next morning, and though naturally, by contrast, it seemed to add a keener edge to

her own grief, she was still able to rejoice wholeheartedly over this little harvesting of joy which her two

friends had snatched from amid the world's dreadful harvesting of pain and sorrow.

By the same post as the radiant letters from Miles and Audrey came one from Elisabeth Durward. She wrote

A transient smile crossed Sara's face as she pictured Tim gravely consenting to await her opinion on the

matter. He knewnone better! what it would be, and, without doubt, he had merely agreed to the

suggestion in the hope that her presence might ease the strain and serve to comfort his mother a little.

Sara telegraphed that she would come to Barrow Court the following day, and, on her arrival, found Tim

"Well," he said with a grin, as the little car slid away along the familiar road. "Have you come to persuade me

"You know I've not," she replied, smiling. "I'm gong to talk sense to Elisabeth. Oh! Tim boy, how I envy

He nodded silently, but she could read in his expression the tranquil satisfaction that his decision had

brought. She had seen the same look on other men's faces, when, after a long struggle with the womanlove

that could not help but long to hold them back, the final decision had been taken.

Arrived at the lodge gates, Tim handed over the car to the chauffeur who met them there, evidently by

Sara acquiesced delightedly. There was a tender, reminiscent pleasure in strolling along the winding paths

that had once been so happily familiar, and, hardly conscious of the sudden silence which had fallen upon her

companion, her thoughts slipped back to the old days at Barrow when she had wandered, with Patrick beside

With a little thrill, half pain, half pleasure, she noted each well remembered landmark. There was the arbour

where they used to shelter from a shower, built with sloped boards at its entrance so that Patrick's chair could

easily be wheeled into it; now they were passing the horsechestnut tree which she herself had planted years

agowith the head gardener's assistance!in place of one that had been struck by lightning. It had grown

into a sturdy young sapling by this time. Here was the Queen's Benchan old stone seat where Queen

Elisabeth was supposed to have once sat and rested for a few minutes when paying a visit to Barrow Court.

Sara reflected, with a smile, that if history speaks truly, the Virgin Queen must have spent quite a

considerable portion of her time in visiting the houses of her subjects! And here

"Sara!" Tim's voice broke suddenly across the recollections that were thronging into her mind. There was a

curious intent quality in his tone that arrested her attention, filling her with a nervous foreboding of what he

"Sara, you know, of course, as well as I do, that I am going to volunteer. I let mother send for you,

becausewell, because I thought you would make it a little easier for her, for one thing. But I had another

"Had you?" Sara spoke mechanically. They had paused beside the Queen's Bench, and halfunconsciously

she laid her ungloved hand caressingly on the seat's high back. The stone struck cold against the warmth of

"Yes." Tim was speaking again, still in that oddly direct manner. "I want to ask younow, before I go to

"I mean that I'm asking you once again if you will marry me? If you willif I can go away leaving my wife

in England, I shall have so much the more to fight for. But if you can't give me the answer I wish

well"with a curious little smile"it will make death easier, should it comethat's all."

The quiet, grave directness of the speech was very unlike the old, impetuous Tim of former days. It brought

with it to Sara's mind a definite recognition of the fact that the man had replaced the boy.

"No, Tim," she responded quietly. "I made one mistakein promising to marry you when I loved another

"But"Tim's face expressed sheer wonder and amazement"you don't still care for Garth Trentfor that

blackguard? Oh!" remorsefully, as he saw her wince"forgive me, Sara, but this war makes one feel even

"I knowI understand," she replied quietly. "I'mashamed of loving him." She turned her head restlessly

aside. "But, don't you see, love can't be made and unmade to order. It just happens. And it's happened to me.

In the circumstances, I can't say I like it. But there it is. I do love Garthand I can't unlove him. At least, not

"I shall never marry anybody now, Tim. Ifif ever I 'get over' this fool feeling for Garth, I know how it

would leave me. I shall be quite cold and hard insidelike that stone"pointing to the Queen's Bench. "I

Silently Tim held out his hand, and she laid hers within it, meeting his grave eyes.

"I won't ever bother you again," he said, at last, quietly. "I think I understand, Sara, andand, old girl, I'm

He stooped his head and kissed herfrankly, as a big brother might, and Sara, recognizing that henceforth

"Thank you, Tim," she said. "I knew you would understand. And, please, we won't ever speak of it again."

He tucked his arm under hers, and they walked on together in the direction of the house.

"And now," she said, "let's go to Elisabeth and break it to her that we arebothgoing out to France as

"I'm going with Lady Arronby. I want to gobadly. I want to be in the heart of things. You don't

suppose"with a rather shaky little laugh "that I can stay quietly at home in Englandand knit, do you?"

"No, I suppose you couldn't. But I don't half like it. The women who goout therehave got to face things.

"Tim, if you talk nonsense of that kind, I'll revenge myself by urging Elisabeth to keep you at home," she

declared. "Oh! Tim boy, can't you see that just now I must have something to dosomething that will fill up

Tim heard the cry that underlay the words. There was no misunderstanding it. He squeezed her arm and

"All right, old thing, I won't try to dissuade you. I can guess a little of how you're feeling."

Sara's interview with Elisabeth was very different from anything she had expected. She had anticipated

passionate reproaches, tears even, for an attractive women who has been consistently spoiled by her menkind

But there was none of these things. It almost seemed as though in that first searching glance of hers, which

flashed from Sara's face to the wellbeloved one of her son, Elisabeth had recognized and accepted that, in

the short space of time since these two had met, the decision concerning Tim's future had been taken out of

It was only when, in the course of their long, intimate talk together, she had drawn from Sara the

acknowledgment that she had once again refused to be Tim's wife, that her control wavered.

"But, Sara, surelysurely you can't still have any thought of marrying Garth Trent?" There was a hint of

"Marry Tim?"quietly. "Because, although I shall never marry Garth now, I haven't stopped loving him."

"Do you mean that you can still care for himnow that you know what kind of man he is?"

"Oh! Good Heavens, Elisabeth!"the irritation born of frayed nerves hardened Sara's voice so that it was

almost unrecognizable"you can't turn love on and off as you would a tap! I shall never marry anybody

There was no mistaking her passionate sincerity. The truththat Sara would never, as long as she lived, put

another in the place Garth Trent had heldseemed borne in upon Elisabeth that moment.

With a strangled cry she sank back into her chair, and her eyes, fixed on Sara's small, sternset face, held a

strange, beaten look. As she sat there, her hands gripping the chairarms, there was something about her

"So it's all been uselessquite useless!" she muttered in a queer, whispering voice.

She was not looking at Sara now. Her vision was turned inward, and she seemed to be utterly oblivious of the

other's presence. "Useless!" she repeated, still in that strange, whispering tone.

Elisabeth started, and stared at her for a moment in a vacant fashion. Then, all at once, her mind seemed to

come back to the present, and simultaneously the familiar watchful look sprang into her eyes. Sara was oddly

conscious of being reminded of a sentry who has momentarily slept at his post, and then, awakening

"What was I saying?" Elisabeth brushed her hand distressfully across her forehead.

"I meant that all my hopes were useless," she explained at last. "The hopes I had that some day you would be

"Yes, they're quite uselessif that is what you meant," replied Sara. But there was a perplexed expression in

her eyes. She had a feeling that Elisabeth was not being quite frank with herthat that whispered confession

of failure signified something other than the simple interpretations vouchsafed.

The thing worried her a little, nagging at the back of her mind with the pertinacity common to any little

unexplained incident that has caught one's attention. But, in the course of a few days, the manifold

happenings of daily life drove it out of her thoughts, not to recur until many months had passed and other

Sara remained at Barrow until Tim had volunteered and been accepted, and the settlement of her own

immediate plans synchronizing with this last event, it came about that it was only two hours after Tim's

departure that she, too, bade farewell to Elisabeth, in order to join up in London with Lady Arronby's party.

Elisabeth stood at the head of the great flight of granite steps at Barrow and waved her hand as the car bore

Sara swiftly away, and across the latter's mind flashed the memory of that day, nearly a year ago, when she

herself had stood in the same place, waiting to welcome Elisabeth to her new home.

The contrast between then and now struck her poignantly. She recalled Elisabeth as she had been that

daygracious, smiling, queening it delightfully over her two big men, husband and son, who openly

worshipped her. Now, there remained only a great empty house, and that solitary figure on the doorstep,

Elisabeth turned slowly back into the house as the car disappeared round the curve of the drive. For her, the

moment was doubly bitter. One by one, husband, son, and the woman whom she had ardently longed to see

that son's wife, had been claimed from her by the pitiless demands of the madness men call War.

But there was still more for her to face. There was the utter downfall of all her hopes, the defeat of all her

purposes. She had striven with the whole force that was in her to assure Tim's happiness. To compass this,

she had torn down the curtain of the past, proclaiming a man's shame and hurling headlong into the dust the

new life he had built up for himself, and with it had gone a woman's faith, and trust, and happiness.

And it had all been so futile! Two lives ruined, and the purchase price paid in tears of blood; and, after all,

Tim's happiness was as utterly remote and beyond attainment as though no torrent of disaster had been let

In the solitude which was all the war had left her, she recognized this, and, since she was normally a woman

of kind and generous impulses, she suffered in the realization of the spoiled and mutilated lives for which she

Not that she would have acted differently were the same choice presented to her again. She did not want to

hurt people, but the primitive maternal instinct, which was the pivot of her being, blinded her to the claims of

Only now, in the bitterness of defeat, as she looked back upon her midnight interview with Garth Trent, she

was conscious of a sick repugnance. It had not been a pleasant thing, that thrusting of a knife into an old

wound. This, too, she had done for Tim's sake. The pity of it was that Garth had suffered

She had thought the issue of events hung solely betwixt him and her son, and, with her mind concentrated on

this idea, she had overlooked the possibility of any other outcome. But the acceptance of an unexpected

sequence had been forced upon herSara would never marry any one now! Elisabeth recognized that all her

And the supreme bitterness, from which all that was honest and upright within her shrank with inward shame

and selfloathing, lay in the fact that she, above all others, owed Garth Trentthat which he had begged of

As Sara took her seat on board the train for Monkshaven, she was conscious of that strange little thrill of the

wanderer returned which is the common possession of the explorer and of the schoolgirl at their first sight

She could hardly believe that barely a year had elapsed since she had quitted Monkshaven. So many things

had happenedso many changes taken place. Audrey had been transformed into Mrs. Herrick; Tim had been

given a commission; and Molly, the onetime butterfly, was now become a workingbeea member of the

V.A.D. and working daily at Oldhampton Hospital. Sara could scarcely picture such a metamorphosis!

The worst news had been that of Major Durward's deathhe had been killed in action, gallantly leading his

men, in the early part of the year. Elisabeth had written to Sara at the timea wonderfully brave, simple

letter, facing her loss with a fortitude which Sara, remembering her adoration for her husband and her curious

antipathy to soldiering as a profession, had not dared to anticipate. There was something rather splendid

about her quiet acceptance of it. It was Elisabeth at her besthumanly hurt and broken, but almost heroic in

her endurance now that the blow had actually fallen. And Sara prayed that no further sacrifice might be

demanded from herprayed that Tim might come through safely. For herself, she mourned Geoffrey

Durward as one good comrade does another. She knew that his death would leave a big gap in the ranks of

It had been a wonderful yearthat year which she had passed in France wonderful in its histories of

tragedy and selfsacrifice, and in its revelation both of the brutality and of the infinite fineness of humanity.

Few could have passed through such an experience and remained unchanged, certainly no one as acutely

She felt as though she had been pitchforked into a vast meltingpot, where the castiron generalizations and

traditions which most people consider their opinions grew flexible and fluid in the scorching heat of the

furnace, assimilating so much of the other ingredients in the cauldron that they could never reassume their

And now that year of crowded life and ardent service was over, and she was sidetracked by medical orders

"Go back to England," her doctor had told her, "to the quietest corner in the country you can findand try to

This thin, eagerfaced young woman, of whom every one on the hospital staff spoke in such glowing terms,

interested him enormously. He could see that her year's work had taken out of her about double what it would

have taken out of any one less sensitively alive, and he made a shrewd guess that something over and above

the mere hard work accounted for that curiously finedrawn look which he had observed in her.

During a hastily snatched meal, before the advent of another batch of casualties, he had sounded Lady

"I can tell you very little. I believe there was a bad loveaffair just before the war. All I know is that she was

"Humph! And she's been living on her reserves ever since. Pack her off to Englandand do it quick."

So October found Sara back in England once again, and as the train steamed into Monkshaven station, and

her eager gaze fell on the little group of people on the platform, waiting to welcome her return, she felt a

She winked them away, and leaned out of the window. They were all therebig Dick Selwyn, and Molly,

looking like a masquerading Venus in her V.A.D. uniform, the Lavender Lady and Miles, andradiant and

The Herrick's wedding had taken place very unobtrusively. About a month after Sara had crossed to France,

Miles and Audrey had walked quietly into church one morning at nine o'clock and got married.

Monkshaven had been frankly disappointed. The gossips, who had so frequently partaken of Audrey's

hospitality and then discussed her acrimoniously, had counted upon the lavish entertainment with which,

even in wartime, the wedding of a millionaire's widow might be expected to be celebrated.

Instead of which, there had been this "holeandcorner" sort of marriage, as the disappointed femininity of

Monkshaven chose to call it, and, after a very brief honeymoon, Miles and Audrey had returned and thrown

themselves heart and soul into the work of organizing and equipping a convalescent hospital for officers, of

Henceforth the mouths of Audrey's detractors were closed. She was no longer "that shocking little widow

with the dyed hair," but a woman who had married into a branch of one of the oldest families in the county,

and whose immense private fortune had enabled her to give substantial help to her country in its need.

"I think it's simply splendid of you, Audrey," declared Sara warmly, as they were all partaking of tea at

"My dear, what else could I do with my money? I've got such a sickening lot of it, you see! Besides"with a

bantering glance at her husband"I think it was only the prospect of being of some use at my hospital which

induced Miles to marry me! He's my private secretary, you know, and boss of the commissariat department."

"Quartermaster, at your service, miss," he said cheerfully, adding with a chuckle: "I saw my chance of getting

He was looking amazingly well. The fact of being of some use in the world had acted upon him like a tonic,

and there was no misinterpreting the glance of complete and happy understanding that passed between him

Glad as she was to see it, it served to remind Sara painfully of all that she had missed, to stir anew the aching

longing for Garth Trent, which, though struggled against, and beaten down, and sometimes temporarily

crowded out by the thousand claims of each day's labour, had been with her all through the long months of

It was this which had worn her so fine, not the hard physical work that she had been doing. Always slender,

and built on racing lines, there was something almost ethereal about her now, and her sombre eyes looked

nearly double their size in her small face of which the contour was so painfully distinct. Yet she was as vivid

and alive as ever; she seemed to diffuse, as it were, a kind of spiritual brilliance.

"She makes one think of a flame," Audrey told her husband when they were alone once more. "There is

"Good Heavens! I should think it's selfevident. She's exactly as much in love with Trent as she was a year

ago, and she's fighting against it every hour of her life. And the strain's breaking her."

"Can't we do something to help?" Audrey put her question with a helpless consciousness of its futility.

"Nothing," he answered with quiet decision. "Every one must work out his own salvationif it's to be a

Herrick had delved to the root of the matter when he had declared that Sara was exactly as much in love as

She had realized this for herself, and it had converted life into an endless conflict between her love for Garth

and her shamed sense of his unworthiness. And now, her return to Monkshaven, to its familiar,

With the broadened outlook born of her recent experiences, she began to ask herself whether a man need be

condemned, utterly and for ever, for a momentary loss of nerveeven Elisabeth had admitted that it was

probably no more than that! And then, conversely, her fierce detestation of that particular form of weakness,

inculcated in her from her childhood by Patrick Lovell, would spring up protestingly, and she would shrink

with loathing from the thought that she had given her love to a man who had been convicted of that very

Nor was the attitude he had assumed in regard to the war calculated to placate her. She had learned from

Molly that he had abstained from taking up any form of warwork whatsoever. He appeared to be utterly

indifferent to the need of the moment, and the whole of Monkshaven buzzed with patriotic disapprobation of

his conduct. There were few idle hands there now. A big munitions factory had been established at

Oldhampton, and its demands, added to the necessities of the hospital, left no loophole of excuse for slackers.

Sara reflected bitterly that the sole courage of which Garth seemed possessed was a kind of cold, moral

couragebrazenfacedness, the townspeople termed itwhich enabled him to refuse doggedly to be driven

out of Monkshaven, even though the whole weight of public opinion was dead against him.

And then the recollection of that day on Devil's Hood Island, when he had deliberately risked his life to save

her reputation, would return to her with overwhelming forcemocking the verdict of the court martial,

So the pendulum swung, this way and that, lacerating her heart each time it swept forward or back. But the

blind agony of her recoil, when she had first learned the story of that tragic happening on the Indian frontier,

Then, overmastered by the horror of the thing, she had flung violently away from Garth, feeling herself soiled

and dishonoured by the mere fact of her love for him, too revolted to contemplate anything other than the

Now, with the widened sympathies and understanding which the past year of intimacy with human nature at

its strongest, and at its weakest, had brought her, new thoughts and new possibilities were awaking within

The furnacethat fiercely burning furnace of life at its intensest had done its work.

Sara made the double announcement quite calmly. The two things so often went togetherit was the grey

and gold warp and waft of war with which people had long since grown pathetically familiar.

"How splendid!" Molly enthused with sparkling eyes, adding quickly, "I hope he's not very badly wounded?"

"Elisabeth doesn't give any particulars in her letter. I can't understand her," Sara continued, her brows

contracting in a puzzled fashion. "She seems so calm about it. She has always hated the idea of Tim's

soldiering, yet now, although she's lost her husband and her son is wounded, she's taking it finely."

"No." Sara shook her head. "I don't feel as though it were that. It's something more individual.

Perhaps"thoughtfully"it's pride of a kind. The sort of impression I have is that she's so proudso proud

of Geoffrey's fine death, and of Tim's winning the Military Cross, that it has compensated in some way."

"The war's full of surprises," remarked Molly reflectively. "I never was so astonished in my life as when I

found that Lester Kent's wife believed him to be a model of all the virtues! I wrote and told you didn't I,

Sara?that he was sent to Oldhampton Hospital? He got smashed up, driving a motor ambulance, you

"Well, his wife came to see him, with her little boy. She was the sweetest thing, and so plucky. 'My dear,' she

said to me, after it was all over, 'I hope you'll find a husband as dear and good. He was so loyal and

trueand now that he's gone, I shall always have that to remember!' " Molly's eyes had grown very big and

bright. "Oh! Sara," she went on, catching her breath a little, "supposing you hadn't brought me homethat

"And yet the memory is an utterly false onethough I suppose it will help her just the same! It's knowing the

truth that hurts, sometimes." And Sara's lips twisted a little. "What a droll world it isof shame and truth all

"Isn't heroism beautifuland selfsacrifice?" he said. "And this war's full of it. Sometimes, when I read the

newspapers, I think God Himself must be surprised at the splendid things the men He made have done."

Sara turned away, swept by the recollection of one man she knew who had nothing splendid, nothing

glorious, to his credit. Almost invariably, any discussion of the war ended by hurting her horribly.

"I'll take that basket of flowers across to the 'Convalescent' now, I think," she said, rising abruptly from her

Selwyn nodded, mentally anathematizing himself for having driven her thoughts inward, and Molly, who had

developed amazingly of late, tactfully refrained from offering to accompany her.

The Convalescent Hospital, situated on the crest of a hill above the town, was a huge mansion which had

been originally built by a millionaire named Rattray, who, coming afterwards to financial grief, had found

himself too poor to live in it when it was completed. It had been frankly impossible as a dwelling for any one

less richly dowered with this world's goods, and, in consequence, when the place was thrown on the market,

no purchaser would be found for itsince Monkshaven offered no attraction to millionaires in general.

Since then it had been known as Rattray's Folly, and it was not until Audrey cast covetous eyes upon it for

her convalescent soldiers that the "Folly" had served any purpose other than that of a warning to people not to

A short cut from Sunnyside to the hospital lay through Crabtree Moor, and as Sara took her way across the

rough strip of moorland, dotted with clumps of gorse and heather, her thoughts flew back to that day when

she and Garth had encountered Black Brady there, and to the ridiculous quarrel which had ensued in

consequence of Garth's refusal to condone the man's offence. For days they had not spoken to each other.

Looking backward, how utterly insignificant seemed that petty disagreement now! Had she but known the

bitter separation that must come, she would have let no trifling difference, such as this had been, rob her of a

She wondered if she and Garth would ever meet again. She had been back in Monkshaven for some weeks

now, but he had studiously avoided meeting her, shutting himself up within the solitude of Far End.

And then, with her thoughts still centred round the man she loved, she lifted her eyes and saw him standing

quite close to her. He was leaning against a gate which gave egress from the moor into an adjacent pasture

field towards which her steps were bent. His arms, loosely folded, rested upon the top of the gate, and he was

looking away from her towards the distant vista of sea and cliff. Evidently he had not heard her light

footsteps on the springy turf, for he made no movement, but remained absorbed in his thoughts, unconscious

Sara halted as though transfixed. For an instant the whole world seemed to rock, and a black mist rose up in

front of her, blotting out that solitary figure at the gateway. Her heart beat in great, suffocating throbs, and her

throat ached unbearably, as if a hand had closed upon it and were gripping it so tightly that she could not

breathe. Then her senses steadied, and her gaze leapt to the face outlined in profile against the cold

Her searching eyes, poignantly observant, sensed a subtle difference in itor, perhaps, less actually a

difference than a certain emphasizing of what had been before only latent and foreshadowed. The lean face

was still leaner than she had known it, and there were deep lines about the mouthgraven. And the mouth

itself held something sternly sweet and austere about the manner of its closinga severity of selfdiscipline

which one might look to see on the lips of a man who has made the supreme sacrifice of his own will,

bludgeoning his desires into submission in response to some finely conceived impulse.

The recognition of this, of the something fine and splendid that had stamped itself on Garth's features, came

to Sara in a sudden blazoning flash of recognition. This was notcould not be the face of a weak man or a

coward! And for one transcendent moment of glorious belief sheer happiness overwhelmed her.

But, in the same instant, the damning facts stormed up at herthe verdict of the courtmartial, the details

Elisabeth had supplied, above all, Garth's own inability to deny the chargeand the light of momentary

An inarticulate sound escaped her, forced from her lips by the pang of that sudden frustration of leaping hope,

"Sara!" The name rushed from his lips, shaken with a tumult of emotion. And then he was silent, staring at

her across the little space that separated them, his hand gripping the topmost bar of the gate as though for

The calm of his face, that lofty serenity which had been impressed upon it, was suddenly all broken up.

She moved towards him, trying to control the trembling that had seized her limbs.

"II've just come back from France," she added, making a lame attempt to speak conventionally.

It was an effort to hold out her hand, and, when his closed around it, she felt her whole body thrill at his

touch, just as it had been wont to thrill in those few, short, golden days when their mutual happiness had been

undarkened by any shadow from the past. Swiftly, as though all at once afraid, she snatched her hand from

"Nursing," she answered briefly. "Did you think I could stay here and donothing, at such a time as this?"

There was accusation in her tone, but if he felt that her speech reflected in any way upon himself, he showed

no sign of it. His eyes were roving over her, marking the changes wrought in the year that had passed since

they had metthe sharpened contour of her face, the too slender body, the white fragility of the bare hand

"I'm not ill," she replied indifferently. "Only a bit overtired. As soon as I have had a thorough rest I am

"You won't go back there again?" he exclaimed sharply. "You're not fit for such work!"

"Certainly I shall go backas soon as ever Dr. Selwyn will let me. It's little enough to do for the men who

are givingeverything!" Suddenly, the pentup indignation within her broke bounds. "Garth, how can you

stay here when men are fighting, dyingout there?" Her voice vibrated with the sense of personal shame

which his apathy inspired in her. "Oh!"as though she feared he might wound her yet further by advancing

the obvious excuse"I know you're past military age. But other menolder men than youhave gone. I

know a man of fifty who bluffed and got in! There are heaps of back doors into the Army these days."

"And there's a back door out of itthe one through which I was kicked out!" he retorted, his mouth setting

"Don't you want to help your country?" she pleaded. It was horrible to her that he should stand

asideinexplicable except in terms of that wretched business on the Indian Frontier, in the hideous truth of

Somehow, even in her shamed bewilderment and anger, she sensed the hurt that lay behind the curt speech.

"Men who have been cashiered, men who are too oldthey're all going back," she urged tremulously,

She stared at him in silence. She felt exactly as though she had been beating against a closed door. With a

gesture of hopelessness she turned away, recognizing the futility of pleading with him further.

"One moment"he stepped in front of her, barring her path. "I want an answer to a question before you go."

There was something of his old arrogance in the demandthe familiar, dominating quality which had always

For an instant the colour rushed into Sara's white face; then it ebbed away, leaving it paler than before.

"No," she said quietly. "I am not." She lifted her eyes, accusing, passionately reproachful, to his. "How could

youeven ask me that? Did you ever believe I loved you?" she went on fiercely. "And if I did could I

"You care still, then?" he asked, and in his voice was blent all the exultation, and the wonder, and the

Sara felt herself slipping, knew that she was losing her hold of herself. Soon she would be awash in a sea of

love, helpless to resist as a bit of driftwood, and then the waters would close over her head and she would be

drawn down into the depths of shame which yielding to her love for Garth involved.

She must goleave him while she had the power. Summoning up her strength, she faced him.

"I do," she answered steadily. "But I pray God every night of my life that I may soon cease to care."

And with those few words, limitless in their scornfor him, and for herself because she still loved himshe

"So Elisabeth has played her stakeand lost!" he muttered to himself. "Ah! Pardon!" he drew aside as she

almost brushed past him in her sudden haste to escapeto get awayand stood, with bared head, his eyes

Soon a bend in the path through the fields hid her from his sight. But, long after she had disappeared, he

remained leaning, motionless, against the gateway through which she had passed, his face immobile, twisted

and drawn so that it resembled some sculptured mask of Pain, his eyes staring straight in front of him, blank

Miles Herrick, returning from the town to the hospital and taking, like every one else, the short cut across the

fields, waved a friendly arm as he caught sight of Garth's figure silhouetted against the sky line.

Then he drew nearer, and the set, still face of the other filled him with a sudden sense of dismay. There was a

new look in it, a kind of dogged hopelessness. It entirely lacked that suggestion of austere sweetness which

had made it so difficult to reconcile his smirched reputation with the man himself.

"What is it, Garth?" Instinctively Miles slipped into the more familiar appellation.

Trent looked at him blankly. It seemed as though he had not heard the question, or, at any rate, had not taken

Miles slung the various packages with which he was burdened on to the ground, and leaned up leisurely

against the gatepost. It was characteristic of him that, although the day was never long enough for the work

he crowded into it, he could always find time to give a helping hand to a pal with his back against the wall.

"What I might have anticipated," he answered, at last, in a curious flat voice, devoid of expression. "I've sunk

Miles regarded him quietly for a moment, a queer, halfhumorous glint in his eyes.

"I suppose she doesn't know you've halfbeggared yourself, helping on the financial side?"

"A man could hardly do less, could he?" he returned awkwardly. "But if she did knowwhich she

"With your physique you could wangle the age limit," pursued Miles imperturbably.

"I should have to 'wangle' a good deal more than that,"harshly. "Have you forgotten that I was chucked

"There isand then of running up against one of the old crowd and being recognized! It isn't so easy to lose

Miles looked away quickly. The hard, implacable stare of the other man's eyes, with the blazing defiance,

hurt him. It spoke too poignantly of a bitterness that had eaten into the heart. But he had put his hand to the

"Wouldn't it"he spoke with a sudden gentleness, the gentleness of the surgeon handling a torn

"If it did, it would only make matters worse. No. Take it from me, Herrick, that soldiering is the one thing of

"I don't see it," persisted Miles. "On the contrary, it's the one thing that might make her believe in you. In

Garth swung suddenly round, a dull, dangerous gleam in his eyes. But Miles bore the savage glance serenely.

He had applied the spur with intention. The other was sufferingsuffering intolerablyin a dumb silence

that shut him in alone with his agony. That silence must be broken, no matter what the means.

"You'd wipe out the stigma of cowardice, if you volunteered," he went on deliberately.

"Cut it out, Herrick," he flung back. "I'm not a damned storybook hero, out for whitewash and the V.C."

"To what end?" he burst out violently. "Can't you realize that's just the one thing in the world forbidden me?

Sara isoh, well, it's impossible to say what she is, but I suppose most good women are half angel. And if I

gave her the smallest chance, she'd begin to believe in me againto ask questions I cannot answer. . . .

What's the use? I can't get away from the courtmartial and all that followed. I can't clear myself. And I could

never offer Sara anything more than a name that has been disgraceda miserable halflife with a man who

can't hold up his head amongst his fellows! Yes"answering the unspoken question in Herrick's eyes"I

know what you're thinkingthat I was willing to marry her once. But I believed, then, thatGarth Trent

had cut himself free from the past. Now I know"more quietly"that there is no such thing as getting away

from the mistakes one has made. . . . I'm tied hand and footevery way! And it's better Sara should continue

to think the worst of me. Then, in the future, she may find some sort of happinesswith Durward, perhaps."

His lips greyed a little, but he went on. "The worse she thinks me, the easier it will be for her to cut me out of

"Then do you mean"Miles spoke very slowlythat you are deliberatelyholding back from

"Quite deliberately!" It was like the snap of a tormented animal, baited beyond bearing. "If I could go with a

clean name, as other men can Good God, man! Do you think I haven't thought it outknocked my

Miles was silent. There was so much of truth in all Garth said, so much of warped vision, biased by the man's

"There's my promise to Elisabeth, as well. That binds me if I were recognized and taxed with my identity. I

should have to hold my peace and stick it all over again! . . . There's a limit to a man's endurance."

Then, after a pause: "If I could goand be sure of not returning" grimly"I'd go tomorrowthe

Foreign Legion, anyway. But sometimes a man hasn't even the right to get himself neatly killed out of the

"I should think it's plain enough! Don't you see what it would mean to Sara ifthathappened? She'd never

believeafterwardsthat I'm as black as I'm painted, and I should saddle her with an intolerable burden of

selfreproach. No, the Army is a closed door for me. . . . Damn it, Herrick!" with the sudden nervous

violence of a man goaded past endurance. "Can't you understand? I ought never to have come into her life at

all. I've only messed things up for herdamnably. The least I can do is to clear out of it so that she'll never

regret my going. . . . I've gone under, and a man who's gone under had better stay there."

Both men were silentTrent with the bitter, brooding silence of a man who has battered uselessly against the

bars that hem him in, and who at last recognizes that they can never be forced asunder, Herrick trying to

"No"Garth spoke with a finality there was no disputing"I've been buried threeandtwenty years, and

my resurrection hasn't been exactly a success. There's no place in the world for me unless some one else pays

Suddenly, Sara found herself saying the words aloud in the darkness and solitude of the night.

Since her meeting with Garth, on her way to the hospital, every hour had been an hour of conflict. That brief,

strained interview had shaken her to the depths of her being, and, unable to sleep when night came, she had

Little enough had been said. It had been the silences, the dumb, passionfilled silences, vibrant with all that

must not be spoken, which had tried her endurance to the utmost, and she had fled, at last, incontinently,

because she had felt her resolution weakening each moment she and Garth remained togetherbecause, with

him beside her, the love against which she had been fighting for twelve long months had wakened into fierce

The mere sound of his voice, the lightest touch of his hand, had power to thrill her from head to foot, to rock

The recollection of that one perfect moment, when the serene austerity of his face had given the lie to that of

which he was accused, lingered with her, a faint elusive thread of hope which would not leave her, urging,

suggesting, combating the hard facts to which he himself had given ruthless confirmation.

Almost without her cognizance, Sara's characteristic, vehement belief in whomsoever she lovedstunned at

the first moment of Elisabeth's revelationhad been gradually creeping back to feeble, halting life,

weakened at times by the mass of evidence arrayed against it, yet still alivegrowing and strengthening

And since that moment on the moor, when her eyes had searched Garth's facehis face with the mask

Throughout the long hours of the night she had fought against it, deeming it but the passionate outcome of

her love for the man himself. She wanted to believe him innocent; it was only her love for him which had

raised this phantom doubt of the charges brought against him; the wish had been father to the thought. So she

told herself, struggling conscientiously against that to which she longed to yield.

And then, making a mockery of the hateful thing of which he had been accused, her individual knowledge of

Nothing that she had ever known of him had pointed to any lack of courage. It had been on no sudden,

splendid impulse of a moment that he had plunged into the sea and fought that treacherous, racing tide off

Devil's Hood Island. Quite composedly, deliberately, he had calculated the risksand taken them!

Once more, she recalled the vision of his face as she had seen it yesterday, in that instant before he had

perceived her nearness to him strong and steadfast, imprinted with a disciplined nobilityand the

She had spoken involuntarily, the thought rushing into words before she was aware, and the sound of her own

voice in the darkness startled her. It seemed almost like a voice from some Otherwhere, authoritatively

She lay back on her pillows, smiling a little at the illusion. But the sense of peace, of blessed assuredness,

remained with her. She had struggled through the darkness of those bitter months of unbelief, and now she

had come out into the light on the other side. She felt dreamily contented and at rest, and presently she fell

Amid the score of trifling details incidental to the day's arrangements, with the usual uninspiring conversation

prevalent at the breakfasttable going on around her, the mood of the previous night, informed, as it had

been, with that triumphant sense of exaltation, slipped from her like a garment.

Supposing she were to tell themto tell Selwyn and Mollythat, without any further evidence, she was

convinced of Garth's innocence? Why, they would think she had gone mad! Regretfully, with infinite pain it

might be, but still none the less conclusively, they had accepted the fact of his guilt. And indeed, what else

And yetthat inner feeling of belief which had stirred into new life refused to be repressed.

Mechanically she went about the small daily duties which made up life at Sunnysideinterviewed Jane

Crab, read the newspapers to Mrs. Selwyn, accomplished the necessary shopping in the town, each and all

with a mind that was only superficially concerned with the matter in hand, while, behind this screen of

commonplace routine, she felt as though her soul were struggling impotently to release itself from the bonds

In the afternoon, she paid a visit to the Convalescent Hospital. She made a practice of going there at least

once a day and giving what assistance she could. Frequently she relieved Miles of part of his secretarial work,

or checked through with him the invoices of goods received. There were always plenty of odd jobs to be

done, and, after her strenuous work in France, she found it utterly impossible to settle down to the life of

"Do you know that there was a Zepp over Oldhampton last night?" she asked, as they went upstairs together.

Sara shook her head. The memory of the previous night surged over her like the memory of a vivid

dreamthe absolute assurance it had brought her of Garth's innocence, an assurance which had grown vague

and doubtful with the daylight, just as the happenings of a dream grow blurred and indistinct.

"No, I didn't hear anything," she replied absently. "Did they do much damage? I suppose they were after the

"Yes. They dropped one bomb, that's all. It fell in a field, luckily. But goodness knows how they got over

without any one's spotting them! Everybody's asking where our searchlights were. As for our anti aircraft

guns, they've never had the opportunity yet to do anything more than try our nerves by practicing! And last

"The milkman was babbling to Jane about Zeppelins this morning, but I thought it was probably only the

"No, it was the real thing'made in Germany,' " smiled Audrey. "I begin to feel as if we were quite the hub

"Miles will be glad to see you today," she pursued. "He's bemoaning a new manifestation of warfever

among the feminine population of Monkshaven. Go in to him, will you? I must run offI've got a million

things to see to. You're not looking very fit today"suddenly observing the other's white face and

"Bless you, my dear!" he exclaimed. "You're the very woman I wanted to see. I'm snowed under with fool

letters from females anxious to entertain 'our poor, brave, wounded officers.' Head 'em off, will you?" He

thrust a bundle of letters into her hands. Then, as she moved toward the windows, and the cold, searching

light of the wintry sunshine fell full on her face, his voice altered. "What is it? What has happened, Sara?" he

She looked at him dumbly. Her lips moved, but no sound came. The sudden question, accompanied by the

"Not a stroke of work for you today," he said decisively, taking the bundle of letters out of her hands. "Now

Herrick nodded. He knew what that meeting had meant to one of these two friends of his. Now he was to see

the reverse of the medal. He waited, his silence sympathetic and far more helpful than any eager, probing

"How's that?" He did not make the mistake of attributing her outburst to a transient mood of depression.

"Since I saw Garth yesterday I've been asking myself whetherwhether I've been doing him a ghastly

injustice"she moistened her dry lips "whether he was really guilty ofrunning away."

"Ah!" Miles stuffed his hands in his pockets and limped the length of the room and back. In that moment, he

realized something of the maddening, galling restraint of the bondage under which Garth Trent had lived for

yearsthe bondage of silence, and, within his pickets, his hands were clenched when he halted again at

"Whybecausebecause I just can't believe it! . . . I've seen a lot since I went away. I've seen brave

menand I've seen men . . . who were afraid." She turned her head aside. "Theythe ones who were

"I don't know. I expect you think I'm a fool? I've nothing to go on on the contrary, I've Garth's own

admission thatthat he was cashiered. And yet Oh! Miles, if he were only doing anythingnow it

would be easier to believe in him! Buthe holds absolutely aloof. It's as though he were afraidstill."

"Have you ever thought"Herrick spoke slowly, without looking at her "what this year of war must have

meant to a man who has been a soldierand is one no longer?" His eyes came back to her face meditatively.

"You've only got to look at the man to know what I mean. I think since the war broke outthat Trent has

"Butbut he could have enlistedgot in somehowunder another name, had he wanted to fight. Or he

Sara was putting to Herrick the very arguments which had arisen in her own mind to confound the intuitive

belief of which she had been conscious since that moment of inward revelation on Crabtree Moor putting

them forward in all their repulsive ugliness of fact, in the desperate hope that Herrick might find some way to

"Some men might have done, perhaps," answered Miles quietly. "But not a man of Trent's temperament.

Some trees bend in a stormand when the worst of it is past, they spring erect again. Some can't; they

The words recalled to Sara's mind with sudden vividness the last letter Patrick Lovell had ever written

herthe one which he had left in the Chippendale bureau for her to receive after his death. He had applied

almost those identical words to the Malincourt temperament, of which he had recognized the share she had

inherited. And she realized that her guardian and Miles Herrick had been equally discerning. Though

differing in its effect upon each of them, consequent upon individual idiosyncrasy, the fact remained that she

and Garth were both "breaking" beneath the strain which destiny had imposed on them.

With the memory of Patrick's letter came an inexpressible longing for the man himselffor the kindly,

helping hand which he would have stretched out to her in this crisis of her life. She felt sure that, had he been

beside her now, his shrewd counsel would have cleared away the mists of doubt and indecision which had

But since he was no longer there to be appealed to, she had turned instinctively to Herrick, and, somehow, he

had failed her. He had not given her a definite expression of his own belief. She had been humanly craving to

hear that he, too, believed in Garth, notwithstanding the evidence against himthat he had some explanation

to offer of that ghastly tragedy of the courtmartial episode. And instead, he had only hazarded some tolerant

suggestionssympathetic to Garth, it is true, but not carrying with them the vital, unqualified assurance she

In spite of this, she knew that Herrick's friendship with Garth had remained unbroken by the knowledge of

the Indian Frontier story. The personal relations of the two men were unchanged, and she felt as though Miles

were withholding something from her, observing a reticence for which she could find no explanation. He had

been very kind and understandingit would not have been Miles had he been otherwisebut he had not

helped her much. In some curious way she felt as though he had thrown the whole onus of coming to a

She returned to Sunnyside oppressed with a homesick longing for Patrick. The two years which had elapsed

since his death had blunted the edge of her sorrowas time inevitably mustbut she still missed the

shrewd, kindly, worldlywise old man unspeakably, and just now, thrown back upon herself in some

indefinable way by Miles's attitude, her whole heart cried out for that other who was gone.

She wondered if he knew how much she needed him. She almost believed that he must knowwherever he

might be now, she felt that Patrick would never have forgotten the child of the woman whom, in this world,

With an instinctive craving for some tangible memory of him, she unlocked the leather case which held her

mother's miniature, together with the last letter which Patrick had ever written; and, unfolding the letter,

Somehow, there seemed comfort in the very wording of it, in every little characteristic phrase that had been

Patrick's, in the familiar appellation, "Little old pal," which he had kept for her alone.

All at once her fingers gripped the letter more tightly, her attentions riveted by a certain passage towards the

Had Patrick foreseen the exact circumstances in which his "little old pal" would one day find herself, he

Sara sat still, every nerve of her taut and strung. She felt as though she had laid bare the whole of her trouble,

revealed her inmost soul in all its anguished perplexity, to those shrewd blue eyes which had been wont to see

Patrick had always possessed that supreme gift of being able to separate the grain from the chaffto

distinguish unerringly between essentials and nonessentials, and now, in the quiet, wise counsel of an old

letter, Sara found an answer to all the questionings that had made so bitter a thing of life.

It was almost as if some one had torn down a curtain from before her eyes, rent asunder a veil which had been

Mountains! There were mountains indeed betwixt her and Garthand there was no way round them or

through them! But nownow she would go over themgo straight ahead, unregarding of the mountains

No man is all angelor all devil. Supposing Garth had been guilty of cowardice, had had his one moment of

weakness? She no longer cared! He was hers, her lover, alike in his weakness and in his strength. She had

known men in France shrink in terror at the evil droning of a shell, and then die selflessly that others might

"Your faith must be big enough to remove the mountains in the wayor to go over them," Patrick had

And Sara, hiding her face in her hands, thanked God that now, at last, her faith was big enough, and that

love"the one altogether good and perfect gift"was still hers if she would only go over the mountains.

The words, in staring white capital letters, had been chalked up by some one on the big wooden doubledoors

Sara stood quite still, gazing at them fixedly, and a tense whiteheat of anger flared up within her. Who had

"Coward!" No one had ever actually applied that term to Garth in her hearing. They had skirted delicately

round it, or wrapped up its meaning in some less harshsounding tangle of phrases, and although she had

bitterly used the word herself, now that the opprobrious expression publicly confronted her, writ large by

some unfriendly hand, she was swept by a sheer fury of indignant denial. It roused in her the immediate

instinct to defend, to range herself unmistakably on Garth's side against a world of traducers.

With a faint smile of selfmockery, she realized that had this flagrant insult been leveled at him in the

beginning, had her first knowledge of the black shadow which hung over him been thus brutally flung at her,

instead of diffidently, reluctantly broken to her by Elisabeth, she would probably, with the instinctive

partisanship of woman for her mate, have utterly refused to credit itagainst all reason and all proof.

She wondered who could have done this ting, nailed this insult to Garth's very door. The illiterate characters

stamped it as the work of some one in the lower walks of life, and, with a frown of annoyance, Sara

"I never forgits to pay back," he had told her once, belligerently. Probably this was his notion of getting even

with the man who had prosecuted him for poaching. But had Brady realized that, in retaliating upon Trent, he

would be giving pain to his beloved Sara, whom he had grown to regard with a humble, doglike devotion,

he would certainly have refrained from recording his vengeance upon Garth's gateway.

Surmising that Garth could not have seen the offending legendor it would scarcely have been left for all

who can to readSara whipped out her handkerchief and set to work to rub it off. He should not see it if she

But Black Brady had done his work very thoroughly, and she was still diligently scrubbing at it with an

inadequate piece of cambric when she heard steps behind her, and wheeling round, found herself confronted

His eyes rested indifferently and without surprise upon the chalkedup words, then turned to Sara's face

"Why are you doing that?" he asked. "Iscleaning gates the latest form of warwork?"

And in that moment the long struggle in Sara's heart ended, and she answered out of the fullness of the faith

"No! It is not true! I've been a fool to believe it for an instant. But I'm one no longer. I don't believe it." She

"Elisabeth Durward has surely supplied you with all the information on that subject which you require," he

said in expressionless tones, and Sara was conscious anew of the maddening feeling of impotence with which

"Garth"there was appeal in her voice, yet it was still very steady and determined"I want to know what

you say about it. What Elisabethor any one elsemay say, doesn't matter any longer."

Something in the quiet depth of emotion in her voice momentarily broke through his guard. He made an

involuntary movement towards her, then checked himself, and, with an effort, resumed his former detached

"More important than anything either I, or Elisabeth, can say, is the verdict of the court," he answered.

"Garth," she came a step nearer to him and her sombre eyes blazed into his. "I will have an answer! For God's

sake, don't fence with me any longer! . . . There have been misunderstandings enough, reticences enough,

between us. For this once, let us be honest with each other. I pretended I didn't careI pretended I could go

on living, believing you to be whatwhat they have called you. And I can't! . . . I can't go on. . . . I can't bear

He was white to the lips by the time she had finished, and his eyes held a look of dumb torture. Twice he

At last he turned away, as though the passionate question in her face the eager, hungry longing to hear her

"I didn't ask you to deny it," she persisted doggedly. "I asked you were you guilty?"

Again there fell as heavy silence. Then, reluctantly, as if the admission were dragged from him, he spoke.

"Then you weren't guilty!" she exclaimed, and there was a deep, surpassing joy in her shaken tones. "I knew

it! I was sure of it. Oh! Garth, Garth, what a fool I've been! And oh! My dear, why did you do it? Why did

She smiled at hima smile of absolute content, with a gleam of humour at the back of it.

"I didn't ask you to deny it. I asked you to own to it; I tried to make youevery way. And you can't!"

She laid her hand across his mouthlaughing the tender, triumphant laughter of a woman who has won, and

"You needn't blacken yourself any longer on my account, Garth. I shall never again believe anything that you

She stood leaning a little towards him, surrender in every line of her slender body, and her face was like a

white flametransfigured, radiant with some secret, mystic glory of love's imparting.

With an inarticulate cry he opened wide his arms and she went to him swiftly, unerringly, like a homing

birdand, as he folded her close against his breast and laid his lips to hers, all the hunger and the longing of

the empty past was in his kiss. For the moment, pain and bitterness and regret were swept away in that

"To think we've wasted a whole year," she said regretfully. "Garth, I wish I had trusted you better!" There

"I don't see why you should trust me now," he rejoined quietly. "The facts remain as before."

"Only that the verdict of the courtmartial was wrong," she said swiftly. "There was some horrible mistake. I

am sure of itI know it! Garth!after a moment's pause"are you going to tell me everything? I have the

She felt the clasp of his arms relax, and, looking up quickly, she saw his face suddenly revert to its old lines

"Garth!" There was a shrilling note of apprehension in her voice. "Garth! What is it? Why do you look like

It was a full minute before he answered. When he did, he spoke heavily, as one who knows that his next

"Because," he said quietly, "I can no more tell you anything now than I could before. I can't clear myself,

"Answer me one more question, Garth. Is it that you cannotor will not clear yourself?"

"I must not," he replied steadily. "I am not the only one concerned in the matter. There is some one to whom I

owe it to be silent. Honour forbids that I should even try to clear myself. Now you know allall that I can

"Who is it?" The question leaped from her, and Garth's answer came with an irrevocability of refusal there

"And you have borne thisall these years?" she said. "You have known that you could clear yourself and

"There was no choice," he answered quietly. "I took on a certain liabilityyears ago, and because it has

turned out to be a much heavier liability than I anticipated gives me no excuse for repudiating it now."

For a moment Sara hid her face in her hands. When she uncovered it again there was something almost akin

"Forgive you?" He smiled. "What else could you have done, sweetheart? I don't know, even now, why you

"Just because" she began, and fell silent, realizing that her belief had no reason, but was founded on the

When next she spoke it was with the simple, frank directness characteristic of her.

"Thank God that I can prove that I do trust youabsolutely. When will you marry me, Garth?"

"When will I marry you?" He repeated the words slowly, as though they conveyed no meaning to him.

"Yes. I want every one to know, to see that I believe in you. I want to stand at your sidego shares. Do you

remember, once, how we settled that married life meant going shares in everythinggood and bad?" She

smiled a little at the remembrance drawn from the small store of memories that was all her few days of

For a moment he was silent. Then he spoke, and the quiet finality of his tones struck her like a blow.

"Nevermarry!" she repeated dazedly. Quick fear seized her, and she rushed on impetuously: "Then you

haven't forgiven me, after allyou don't believe that I trust you! Oh! How can I make you know that I do?

"Oh, my dear," he interrupted swiftly. "Don't misunderstand me. I know that you believe in me nowand I

thank God for it! And as for forgiveness, as I told you, I have nothing to forgive. You'd have had need of the

faith that removes mountains"Sara started at the repetition of Patrick's very words"to have believed in

me under the circumstances." He paused a moment, and when he spoke again there was something

triumphant in his tonesa serene gladness and contentment. "You and I, beloved, are right with each

othernow and always. Nothing can ever again come between us to divide us as we have been divided this

last year. But, none the less," and his voice took on a steadfast note of resolve, "I cannot marry you. I thought

I couldI thought the past had sunk into oblivion, and that I might take the gift of love you offered me. . . .

"No! No! You were not wrong!" She was clinging to him in a sudden terror that even now their happiness

was slipping from them. "The past has nothing to say to you and me. It can't come between us. . . . You have

only to take me, Garth"tremulously. "Let me show that my love is stronger than ill repute. Let me come to

"The past never loses its power to hurt," he answered. "I've learned that. As far as the world you belong to is

concerned, I'm finished, and I won't drag the woman I love through the same hell I've been through. That's

what it would mean, you know. You would be singled out, pointed at, as the wife of a man who was chucked

out of the Service. There would be no place in the world for you. You would be ostracizedbecause you

"I shouldn't care," she urged. "Surely I can bearwhat you have borne? . . . I shouldn't mindanythingso

"Beloved!" he said, a great wonder in his voice. "Oh! Little brave thing! What have I ever done that you

"I don't know, I'm sure," she acknowledged a little shakily. "But I do. Garth, you will marry me?"

He lifted his bent head, his eyes gazing straight ahead of him, as though envisioning the lonely future and

"No," he said resolutely. "No. God helping me, I will never marry you, Sara. I haveno right to marry. It

could only bring you misery. Dear, I must shield you, even from yourselffrom your own big, generous

impulses which would let you join your life to mine. . . . Love is denied to usdenied through my own act of

long ago. But if you'll give me friendship. . . ." She could sense the sudden passionate entreaty behind the

words. "Sara! Friendship is worth whilesuch friendship as ours would be! Are you brave enough, strong

There was a long silence, while Sara lay very still against his breast, her face hidden.

In that silence, her spirit met and faced the ultimate issuefor there was that in Garth's voice which told her

that his decision not to marry her was immutable. Could sheoh God!could she give him what he asked?

Give only part to the man to whom she longed to give all that a woman has to give? It would be far easier to

And yethe asked this of her! He needed something that she could still givethe comradeship which was

When at last she raised her face to his, it was ashen, but her small chin was outthrust, her eyes were like

A sad and wistful gravity hung about their parting. Their lips met and clung together, but it was in a kiss of

"Never forget I'm loving youalways," he said steadily. "Call me your friendbut remember, in my heart I

"And II, too, shall be loving you," she answered, simply. "Always, Garthalways."

Tim was home on sick leave, and, after two perfect weeks of reunion, Elisabeth had written to ask if he might

come down to Sunnyside, suggesting that the seabreezes might advance his convalescence.

"I wonder Mrs. Durward cares to spare him," commented Selwyn in some surprise. "It seems out of keeping

with her general attitude. However, we shall be delighted to have him here. Write and say so, will you, Sara?"

Sara acquiesced briefly, flushing a little. She thought she could read the motive at the back of Elisabeth's

proposalthe spirit which, putting up a gallant fight even in the very face of defeat, could make yet a final

effort to secure success by throwing Tim and the woman he loved together in the dangerously seductive

But Sara had no fear that Tim would avail himself of the opportunity thus provided in the way Elisabeth

doubtless hoped he might. That matter had been finally settled between herself and him before he went to

France, and she knew that he would never again ask her to be his wife. So she wrote to him serenely, telling

him to come down to Monkshaven as soon as he liked; and a few days later found him installed at Sunnyside,

He was the same unaffected, spontaneous Tim as of yore, and hugely embarrassed by any reference to his

winning of the Military Cross, firmly refusing to discuss the manner of it, even with Sara.

It was from a brother officer that Sara learned, later, than Tim had "got on with his job" under a hellish

enemy fire, in spite of being twice wounded; and had thus saved the immediate situation in his vicinityand,

He seemed to Sara to have become at once both older and younger than in former days. He had all the

hilarious good spirits evinced by nine out of ten of the boys who came home on leavethe cheery capacity

to laugh at the hardships and dangers of the front, to poke goodnatured fun at "old Fritz" and to make a jest

of the German shells and the Flanders mud, treating the whole great adventure of war as though it were the

Yet back of the mirth and laughter in the blue eyes lurked something new and strange and

graveinexpressibly touchingthat indefinable something which one senses shrinkingly in the young eyes

It hurt Sara somehowthat look of which she caught glimpses now and then, in quiet moments, and she set

herself to drive it away, or, at least, to keep it at bay as much as possible, by filling every available moment

"I don't want him to think about what it was likeout there," she told Molly. "His eyes make my heart ache,

sometimes. They're too young to have seensuch things. Suggest something we can play at today!"

So they threw themselves, heart and soul, into the task of entertaining Tim, and, since he was very willing to

be entertained, the weeks at Sunnyside slipped by in a little whirl of gaiety, winding up with a badminton

tournament, at which Timwhose right arm had not yet quite recovered from the effects of the German

bullet it had stoppedplayed a lefthanded game, and triumphantly maneuvered himself and his partner into

Probablyleniently handicapped, as they were, in the circumstances they would have won the

tournament, but that, unluckily, in leaping to reach a shuttle soaring high above his head, Tim somehow

"Damn!" he observed succinctly. "That'll make it the very devil of a time before I can get back to France!"

Then, to Sara, who could be heard murmuring something about writing to Elisabeth: "Not much, old thing,

you don't! She'd fuss herself, no end. Just writeand say it's a sprain." And he promptly fainted again.

They got him back to Sunnyside while he was still unconscious, and when he returned to an intelligent

understanding of material matters, he found himself in bed, with a humplike excrescence in front of him

"Yes. Lucky you did, too," responded Sara cheerfully. "Doctor Dick rigged your ankle up all nice and comfy

They talked for a little, and presently Tim, whose eyelids had been blinking somnolently for some time, gave

"Then go to sleep," came promptly from Sara. "It's quite the best thing you can do. I'll run off and write a

With a glance round to see that he had candle, matches, and a hand bell within reach, she turned out the

lamp and slipped quietly away. Tim was asleep almost before she had quitted the room.

It was several hours later when Sara sat up in bed, broad awake, in response to the vigorous shaking that

She opened her eyes to the yellow glare of a candle. Behind the glare materialized a vision of Jane Crab,

attired in a red flannel dressing gown, and with her hair tightly strained into four skimpy plaits which stuck

"Miss Sara! Miss Sara!" She apostrophized the rudely awakened sleeper in a sibilant whisper, as though

"The Zepps, missthe Zepps! The guns are firing off every minute or two. There!"as the blurred thunder

Sara leaped out of bed in an instant, hastily pulling on a fascinating silk kimono and thrusting her bare feet

"One may as well die tidy," she reflected philosophically. Then, turning to Jane

"Trying to get the mistress downstairs. She's that scared, she won't budge from her bed."

"Well, I'm going into Mr. Durward's room," she announced. "We shall see better there."

"Aye, I'd like to see them at their devil's work," she allowed fondly, with a threatening

Sara laughed, and they both repaired to Tim's room, encountering Molly on the way and sweeping her along

in their train. They found Tim volubly cursing his inability to get up and "watch the fun."

As Sara threw open the window, a dull, thudding sound came up to them from the direction of Oldhampton.

She, and Sara, and Jane Crab wedged themselves together in the open window and leaned far out, peering

into the moonless dark. As they watched, a searchlight leapt into being, and a pencil of light moved

flickeringly across the sky. Then another and anothersweeping hither and thither like the blind feelers of

some hidden octopus seeking its prey. There was something horribly uncanny in those long, straight shafts of

Exactly as she spoke, a brilliant light hung for a moment suspended in the dark arch of the sky, then shivered

into a blaze of garish effulgence, girdling the countryside and illuminating every road and building, every

"A starshell!" gasped Molly. "What a beastly thing! Positively" giggling nervously"I believe they can

" 'Tisn't decent!" fulminated Jane indignantly, clutching with modest fingers at her scanty dressinggown and

straining it tightly across her chest whilst she backed hastily from the vicinity of the window. "Lightin' up

sudden like that in the middle of the night! I feel for all the world as though I hadn't got a stitch on me! Come

The light failed as suddenly as it had flared, and a warning crash, throbbing up against their ears, startled her

"That's a trifle too near to be pleasant," exclaimed Tim sharply. "Go downstairs, you three! Do you hear?"

"Come downstairs! Come down at once! Quick, Sara! I'm coming up to carry Tim downand Minnie won't

Obedient to something urgent and imperative in the voices of both men something that breathed of

dangerthe three women hastened from the room. Jane's candle flared and went out in the draught from the

suddenly opened door, and in the smothering darkness they stumbled pellmell down the stairs.

A dim light burning in the hall showed them Mrs. Selwyn cowering against her husband, her face hidden,

sobbing hysterically, and in a moment Sara had taken Dick's place, wrapping her strong arms about the

He nodded, releasing himself with gentle force from his wife's clinging fingers, which had closed upon his

. . . And then it camesped from that hovering Hate which hung above dropping soundlessly, implacable

through the utter darkness of the night and crashing into devilish life against a corner of the house.

Followed by a terrible flash and roara chaos of unimaginable sound. It seemed as though the whole world

had split into fragments and were rocketing off into space; and, in quick succession, came the rumble of

falling beams and masonry, and the dense dust of disintegrated plaster mingling with the fumes of high

Sara was conscious of being shot violently across the hall, and then everything went out in illimitable black

The anguished tones pierced through the black curtain which had suddenly cut away the outer world from

Sara's consciousness, and she opened her eyes obediently, to find herself looking straight into Garth's face

bent above hera sickly white in the yellow glare of the hurricane lamp he was holding.

With Garth's help, she struggled to her feet and stood uprightrather shakily, it is true, but still able to

accomplish the feat without much difficulty. She began to laugh weaklya little helplessly.

"I thinkI think I've only had my wind knocked out," she said. Then, as gradually the comprehension of

"No, no one, thank God!" He reassured her hastily. His arm went round her, and for a moment their lips met

"But youhow did you come here?" she asked, as they drew apart once more. "You . . . weren't . . .

here?"her brows contracting in a puzzled frown as she endeavoured to recall the incidents immediately

"I was dining with the Herricks. The raid began just as I was leaving them, so Judson and I drove straight on

"Bless you, dear!" she whispered quickly. Then, recollection returning more completely: "Tim? Is Tim safe?"

"I'm not far off," came Selwyn's voice, from the mouth of a dark cavity that had once been the study

Garth piloted Sara skillfully across the debris that littered the floor, and they joined the group of shadowy

" 'Ware my arm!" warned Selwyn, as they approached. "It's broken, confound it!" He seemed, for the

Meanwhile, Mrs. Selwyn, finding herself physically intact, was keeping up an irritating moaning,

interspersed with pettish diatribes against a Government that could be so culpably careless as to permit her to

be bombed out of house and home; whilst Jane Crab, who had found and lit a candle, and recklessly stuck it

"Oh, shut up whining, Minnie!" he exclaimed forcefully. "It would be more to the point if you got down on

your knees and said thank you to some one or something instead of grousing like that!"

He turned hurriedly to Garth, who was flashing his lantern hither and thither, locating the damage done.

"He's not that side, thank Heaven! But the odds are he's badly hurt. And, anyway, he's helpless. I was just

Garth swung out into the hall and sent a ringing shout up through the house. An instant later Tim's answer

"No. If you slipped amongst the mess there'll be up there, I'd have two cripples on my hands instead of one.

You stay here and look after the womenand get one of them to fix you up a temporary splint."

The two men moved forward, the women pressing eagerly behind them; then, as the light from Garth's

The whole stairway was twisted and askew. It had a ludicrously drunken look, as though it were lolling up

against the walllike a staircase in a picture of which the perspective is all wrong.

"It isn't safe!" exclaimed Selwyn quickly. "You can't go up. We shall have to wait till help comes."

"They'll have to"laconically. "That top story may go at any minute. It would collapse like a pack of cards if

another bomb fell near enough for us to feel the concussion. And young Durward would have about as much

A silence descended on the little group of anxious people as he finished speaking. The gravity of Tim's

position suddenly revealed itselfand the danger involved by an attempt at rescue.

"Tim isn't safe there, actually five minutes. The floors may hold or they mayn't! I must go, sweet."

He was gone, picking his way gingerly, treading as lightly as a cat, so that the wrenched stairway hardly

Once there came the sudden rattle of some falling scrap of broken plaster, and Sara, leaning with closed eyes

Soon he had disappeared round the distorted head of the staircase, and those who were watching could only

Thenafter an interminable time, it seemedthere came the sound of voices . . . he had found Tim . . . a

pause . . . then again a short, quick speech and the word "Right?" drifted faintly down to the strained ears

Unconsciously Sara's hands had clenched themselves, and the nails were biting into the flesh of her palms.

But she felt no pain. Her whole being seemed concentrated into the single sense of hearing as she waited

there in the candlelit gloom, listening for every tiny sound, each creak of a board, each scattering of

Another eternity crawled by before, at length, Garth reappeared once more round the last bend of the

staircase. Tim was lying across his shoulder, his injured leg hanging stiffly down, and in his hand he grasped

Sara's eyes had opened now and fixed themselves intently on the burdened figure of the man she loved, as,

There was a double strain now upon the dislocated boards and joists the weight of two men where one had

climbed before with lithe, light, unimpeded limbsand it seemed to Sara's tense, set vision as if a slight

In an agony of terror she watched Garth's steady, downward progress. She felt as though she must scream out

to him to hurryhurry! Yet she bit back the scream lest it should startle him, every muscle of her body rigid

Sara's lips were moving voicelessly. She was whispering rapidly over and over again

"God! God! God! Keep him safe! . . . You can do it. . . . Don't let him fall. . . ."

Again there came the familiar thudding sound of an explosion. Somewhere another bomb, hurled from the

cavernous dark that hid the enemy, had fallen, and almost simultaneously, it seemed, a warning thunder

Gripping Tim firmly in his arms, he leaped from the quaking staircase, falling awkwardly, prone beneath the

And even as he reached the ground, the upper story of the house, with a roar that shook the whole remaining

fabric of the building, crashed to earth in an avalanche of stone and brick and flying slates, whilst the

stairway upon which he had been standing gave a sickening lurch, rocked, and fell out sideways into the hall

Stumblingly, those who had been watching groped their way through the powdery cloud, as it swirled and

eddied, towards the dark blotch at the foot of the stairs which was all that could be distinguished of Trent and

To Sara, the momentary silence that ensued was in infinity of nameless dread. Then

"We're all right," gasped Trent reassuringly, and choked violently as he inhaled a mouthful of gritladen air.

In the same instant, across the murk shot a broad beam of light from the open doorway. Behind it Sara could

discern white faces peering anxiouslyAudrey's and Miles's, and, behind them again, loomed the heads and

And when the reassuring answer reached the little throng upon the threshold, a murmur of relief went up,

culminating in a ringing cheer as the news percolated through to the crowd which had collected in the

In an amazingly short time, so it seemed to Sara, she found herself comfortably tucked into the back seat of

Garth's car, between him and Molly. Judson, with Jane beside him, took the wheel, and they were soon

speeding swiftly away towards Greenacres, where Audrey had insisted that the homeless household must take

It had been a night of adventure, but it was over at last, and, as Jane Crab remarked with stolid conviction

"The doctorblessed saint!was never intended to be killed by one of they 'Uns, so they might as well

have saved theirselves the trouble of trying itand we'd all have slept the easier in our beds!"

She had reached Greenacresin response to Sara's letter, posted on the eve of the raidlate in the afternoon

of the following day, and Audrey had at once taken her upstairs to see Tim and left them together. And now,

as she closed the door of his room behind her, she leaned helplessly against the wall and her lips moved in a

Her eyesthe beautiful, hyacinth eyesstared strickenly in front of her, wide and horrified like the eyes of

a hunted thing, and her hands were twisted and wrung beneath the stress of the overwhelming knowledge

which Tim had so joyously prattled out to her. She could hear him now, boyishly enthusiastic, extolling Garth

with the eager, unstinted heroworship of youth, and every word he said had pierced her like the stab of a

"If ever a chap deserved the V.C., Trent does, by Jove! It was the bravest thing I've ever known, mother mine,

for he told me afterwards, he never expected that the top story would hold out till he got me away. He'd seen

it from the outside first, you know! And there was I, held up with this confounded ankle, and with a whole

heap of plaster and a brick or two sitting on my chest I thought I'd gone west that time, for a certainty!"

And Tim chuckled delightedly, blissfully unconscious that with each word he spoke he was binding upon his

It was Garth Trent who had saved her sonGarth Trent, to whom she owed all the garnered happiness of her

married life, yet whose own life's fabric she had pulled down about his ears! And now, to the already

overwhelming magnitude of her debt to him, he had added this this final act of sacrifice.

With an almost superhuman effort, Elisabeth had forced herself to listen quietly to Tim's account of his

rescue from the shattered upper story of the Selwyn's houseto listen precisely as though Garth's share in

the matter held no particular significance for her beyond the splendid one it must inevitably hold for any

But now, safe from the clearsighted glance of Tim's blue eyes, she let the mask slip from her and crouched

The sin which she had sinned in secretwhich, sometimes, she had almost come to believe was not a sin, so

beautiful had been its fruit revealed itself to her now in all its naked ugliness.

Looking backward, down the vista of years, the whole structure of her happiness appeared in its true

perspective, reared upon a lieupon that same lie which had blasted Garth Trent's career and sent him out,

And this man from whom she had taken faith, and hope, and good repute everything, in fact, that makes a

She dropped her face between her hands with a low moan. It was horriblehorrible.

Then, afraid that Tim might hear her, she passed stumblingly into her own room at the end of the corridor,

and there, in solitude and darkness, she fought out the battle between her desire still to preserve the secret she

had guarded threeandtwenty years, and the impulse toward atonement which was struggling into life

Like a scourge the knowledge of her debt to Garth drove her before it, beating her into the very depths of

selfabasement, but, even so, her pride of name, and the motherlove which yearned to shield her son from

all that it must involve if she should now confess the sin of her youth, urged her to let the present still keep

The habit of years, the very purpose for which she had worked, and lied, and fought, must be renounced if

she were to make atonement. A tale that was unbelievably shameful must be revealedand Tim would have

To Elisabeth, this was the most bitter thing she had to facethe fact that Tim, for whose sake she had so

strenuously guarded her secret, must learn, not only what was written on that turneddown page of life, but

also what kind of woman his mother had proved herselfhow totally unlike the beautiful conception which

Meanwhile, the Herricks and their guests"Audrey's refugees," as Molly elected to describe the latter,

herself includedhad gathered round the fire in the library, and were chatting desultorily while they awaited

The casualties of the previous evening had been found to be augmented by two, since Mrs. Selwyn had

remained in bed throughout the day, under the impression that she was suffering from shock, whilst Garth

Trent was discovered to have dislocated his shoulder, and had been compelled to keep his room by medical

In endeavouring to shield Tim, as they crashed to the ground together from the tottering staircase, Trent had

fallen undermost, receiving the full brunt of the fall; and a dislocated shoulder and a severe shaking, which

Characteristically, he had maintained complete silence about his injury, composedly accompanying Sara back

to Greenacres in his car, and he had just been making his way out of the house when he had quietly fainted

"I think," remarked Molly pertinently, "you might as well turn Greenacres into an annexe to the

The Lavender Lady glanced up smilingly from one of the khaki socks which, in these days, dangled

perpetually from her shining needles, and into which she knitted all the love, and pity, and tender prayers of

"Mr. Trent is better," she announced with satisfaction. "I had tea upstairs with him this afternoon."

"Yes," supplements Selwyn, "I fancy one of your patients has struck, Audrey. Trent intends coming down

this evening. Judson has just come back from Far End with some fresh clothes for him."

"Good Heavens, Miles! We can't let him come down! Mrs. Durward will be here with us."

"Well! It will be anything but well!" retorted Audrey significantly. "Have you forgotten what happened that

day in Haven Woods? I'm not going to have Garth hurt like that again! He may have been cashiered a

"I've always known it," he said quietly. "AndI should think Mrs. Durward knows it now."

The low, contralto tones that answered were Elisabeth's. Unnoticed, she had entered the room and was

standing just outside the little group of people clustered round the hearthher slim, blackrobed figure, with

its characteristic little air of stateliness, sharply defined in the ruddy glow of the firelight.

A sudden tremor of emotion seemed to ripple through the room. The atmosphere grew tense, electricalert

The two men had risen to their feet, but no one spoke, and the brief rustle of movement, as every one turned

To Miles, infinitely compassionate, there seemed something symbolical in the figure of the woman standing

thereisolated, outside the friendly circle of the fireside group, standing solitary at the table as a prisoner

The firelight, flickering across her face, revealed its pallor and the burning fever of her eyes, and drew

strange lights from the heavy chestnut hair that swathed her head like a folded banner of flame.

For a long moment she stood silently regarding the ring of startled faces turned towards her. Then at last she

"I have something to tell you," she said, addressing herself primarily, it seemed, to Miles.

Perhaps she recognized the compassionate spirit of understanding which was his in so great a measure and

appealed to it unconsciously. Selwyn, with sensitive perception, turned as though to leave the room, but she

"No, don't go," she said quickly. "Please stayall of you. II wish you all to hear what I have to say." She

spoke very composedly, with a curious submissive dignity, as though she had schooled herself to meet this

moment. "It concerns Garth Trentat least, that is the name by which you know him. His real name is

MauriceMaurice Kennedy, and he is my cousin, Lord Grisdale's younger son. He has lived here under an

assumed name becausebecause"her voice trembled a little, then steadied again to its accustomed even

quality"because I ruined his life. . . . The only way in which I can make amends is by telling you the true

facts of the Indian Frontier episode which led to Maurice's dismissal from the Army. Heought never to

She paused, and with a sudden instinctive movement Sara grasped Selwyn's arm, while the sharp sibilance of

"No," Elisabeth repeated. "Maurice ought never to have been cashiered. He was absolutely innocent of the

charge against him. The real offender was Geoffrey . . . my husband. It was heGeoffrey, not

Mauricewho was sent out in charge of the reconnaissance party from the fortand it was he whose nerve

gave way when surprised by the enemy. Maurice kept his head and tried to steady him, but, at the time,

Geoffrey must have been madcaught by sudden panic, together with his men. Don't judge him too

hardly"her voice took on a note of pleading"you must remember that he had been enduring days and

nights of frightful strain, and that the attack came without any warning . . . in the darkness. He had no time to

thinkto pull himself together. And he lost his head. . . . Maurice did his best to save the situation. Realizing

that for the moment Geoffrey was hardly accountable, he deliberately shot him in the leg, to incapacitate him,

and took command himself, trying to rally the men. But they stampeded past him, panicstricken, and it was

while he was storming at them to turn round and put up a fight thatthat he was shot in the back." She

faltered, meeting the measureless reproach in Sara's eyes, and strickenly aware of the hateful interpretation

she had put upon the same incident when describing it to her on a former occasion.

For the first time, she seemed to lose her composure, rocking a little where she stood and supporting herself

But no one stirred. In poignant silence they awaited the continuance of the tale which each one sensed to be

"Afterwards," pursued Elisabeth at last, "at the courtmartial, two of the men gave evidence that they had

seen Geoffrey fall wounded at the beginning of the skirmishthey did not know that it was Maurice who

had disabled him intentionallyso that he was completely exonerated from all blame, and the Court came to

the conclusion that, the command having thus fallen to Maurice, he had lost his nerve and been guilty of

cowardice in face of the enemy. Geoffrey himself knew nothing of the actual factseither then or later. He

had gone down like a log when Maurice shot him, striking his head as he fell, and concussion of the brain

wiped out of his mind all recollection of what had occurred in the fight prior to his fall. The last thing he

remembered was mustering his men together in readiness to leave the fort. Everything else was a blank."

"Yes." Elisabeth bent her head in answer. "There wasother evidence forthcoming. But not then, not at the

She seemed to speak with everincreasing difficulty, and her hand went up suddenly to her throat. It was

obvious that this selfimposed disclosure of the truth was taking her strength to its uttermost limit.

"I had better tell you the whole storyfrom the beginning," she said, at last, haltingly, and, after a moment's

"Before Maurice went out to India, he and I were engaged to be married. On my part, it would have been only

a marriage of convenience, for I was not in love with him, although I had always been fond of him in a

cousinly way. There was another man whom I loved the man I afterwards married, Geoffrey Lovell" for

an instant her eyes glowed with a sudden radiance of remembrance"and he and I became secretly engaged,

in spite of the fact that I had already promised to marry Maurice. I expect you think that was unforgivable of

me," she seemed to search the intent faces of her little audience as though challenging the verdict she might

read therein; "but there was some excuse. I was very young, and at the time I promised myself to Maurice I

did not know that Geoffrey cared for me. And thenwhen I knewI hadn't the courage to break with

Maurice. He and Geoffrey were both going out to Indiathey were in the same regimentand I kept hoping

that something might happen which would make it easier for me. Maurice might meet and be attracted by

She fell silent for a moment, then, gathering her remaining strength together, as it seemed, she went on

"Something did happen. Maurice was cashiered from the Army, and I had a legitimate reason for terminating

the engagement between us. . . . Then, just as I thought I was free, he came to tell me his case would be

reopened; there was an eyewitness who could prove his innocence, a private in his own regiment. I never

knew who the man was"she turned slightly at the sound of a sudden brusque movement from Miles

Herrick, then, as he volunteered no remark, continued"but it appeared he had been badly wounded and had

only learned the verdict of the court martial after his recovery. He had then written to Maurice, telling him

that he was in a position to prove that it was not he, but Geoffrey Lovell who had been guilty of cowardice.

When I understood this, and realized what it must mean, I confessed to Maurice that Geoffrey was the man I

loved, and I begged and implored him to take the blameto let the verdict of the courtmarital stand. It was

a horrible thing to doI know that. . . . but think what it meant to me! It meant the honour and welfare of the

man I loved, as opposed to the honour and welfare of a man for whom I cared comparatively little. Maurice

was not easy to move, but I made him understand that, whatever happened now, I should never marry

himthat I should sink or swim with Geoffrey, and at last he consented to do the thing I asked. He accepted

the blame and went awayto the Colonies, I believe. Afterwards, as you all know, he returned to England

Such was the tale Elisabeth unfolded, and the hushed listeners, keyed up by its tragic drama, could visualize

for themselves the scene of that last piteous interview between Elisabeth and the man who had loved her to

She was still a very lovely woman, and it was easy to realize how wellnigh bewilderingly beautiful she must

have been in her youth, easy to imagine how Garthor Maurice Kennedy, as he must henceforth be

recognizedworshipping her with a boy's headlong passion, had agreed to let the judgment of the Court

Probably he felt that, since he had lost her, nothing else mattered, and, with the reckless chivalry of youth, he

never stopped to count the cost. He only knew that the woman he loved, whose beauty pierced him to the

very soul, so that his vision was blurred by the sheer loveliness of her, demanded her happiness at his hands

"I suppose you think there was no excuse for what I did," Elisabeth concluded, with something of appeal in

her voice. "But I did not realize, then, quite all that I was taking from Maurice. I think that much must be

granted me. . . . But I make no excuse for what I did afterwards. There is none. I did it deliberately. Maurice

had won the woman Tim wanted, and I hoped that if he were utterly discredited, Sara would refuse to marry

him, and thus the way would be open to Tim. So I made public the story of the courtmartial which had

sentenced Maurice. Had it not been for that, I should have held my peace for ever about his having been

cashiered. II owed him that much." She was silent a moment. Presently she raised her head and spoke in

harsh, wrung accents. "But I've been punished! God saw to that. What do you think it has meant to me to

know that my husbandthe man I worshipped had been once a coward? It's true the world never knew it .

The agony of pride wounded in its most sacred place, the suffering of love that despises what it loves, yet

cannot cease from loving, rang in her voice, and her haunted eyesthe eyes which had guarded their secret

"I think you need never feel shame again," he said very gently. "Major Durward's splendid death has more

than wiped out that one mistake of his youth. Thank God he never knew it needed wiping out."

"No," she answered simply. "No, he never knew." Then the tide of bitter recollection surged over her once

more, and she continued passionately: "Oh yes, I've been punished! Day and night, day and night since the

war began, I've lived in terror that the fearhis father's fearmight suddenly grip Tim out there in Flanders.

I kept him out of the Armybecause I was afraid. And then the war came, and he had to go. Thank

Godoh, thank God!he never failed! . . . I suppose I am a bad womanI don't know . . . I fought for my

own love and happiness first, and afterwards for my son's. But, at least, I'm not bad enough to let Maurice go

on bearing . . . what he has borne . . . now that he has saved Tim's life. He has given me the only thing . . . left

to me . . . of value in the whole world. In return, I can give him the one thing that matters to himhis good

The sharp, staccato question cut across Elisabeth's quiet, concentrated speech like a rapier thrust, snapping

the strained attention of her listeners, who turned, with one accord, to see Kennedy himself standing at the

She met his glance composedly; on her lips a queer little smile which held an indefinable pathos and appeal.

"I am telling them the truthat last, Maurice," she said calmly. "I have told them the true story of the

"Youyou have told them that?" he stammered. He was very pale. The sudden realization of all that her

"Yes." She rose and moved quietly to the door, then face to face with Kennedy, she halted. Her eyes rested

levelly on his; in her bearing there was something aloofly proudan undiminished stateliness, almost regal

in its calm inviolability. "They knownowall that I took from you. I shall not ask your forgiveness,

Maurice . . . I don't expect it. I sinned for my husband and my sonthat is my only justification. I would do

Instinctively Maurice stood aside as she swept past him, her head unbowed, splendid even in her moment of

Then, with a little choking sob, Sara ran across the room to Maurice and caught his hands in hers, smiling

"How can you prove it, GarthMaurice, I mean?"Selwyn corrected himself with a smile. "You'll need

more than Mrs. Durward's confession to secure official reinstatement by the powers that be."

The clamour of joyful excitement and wonder and congratulation had spent itself at last, the Lavender Lady

had shed a few legitimate tears, and now Selwyn voiced the more serious aspect of the matter.

"I have the necessary proofs," he said quietly. He had crossed to a bureau in the corner of the room, and now

"These," he pursued, "are from my brother Colin, who is farming in Australia. He was a good many years my

seniorand I've always understood that he was a bit of a ne'erdowell in his younger days. Ultimately, he

enlisted in the Army as a Tommy, and in that scrap on the Indian Frontier he was close behind Maurice and

saw the whole thing. He got badly wounded then, and was dangerously ill for some time afterwards, so it

happened that he knew nothing about the court martial till it was all over. When he recovered, he wrote to

Maurice, offering his evidence, and"smiling whimsically across at Kennedy "received a haughty letter

in reply, assuring him that he was mistaken in the facts and that the writer did not dispute the verdict of the

court. My brother rather suspected some wildcat business, so before he went to Australia, some years later,

he placed in my hands properly witnessed documents containing the true facts of the matter, and it was only

when, through Mrs. Durward, we learned that Maurice had been cashiered from the Army, that the

connection between that and the Frontier incident flashed into my mind as a possibility. I had heard that the

Durwards' name had been originally Lovelland I began to wonder if Garth Trent's name had not been

originally"with a glint of humour in his eyes"Maurice Kennedy! Here's my brother's letter" passing it

to Sara, who was standing next him"and here's the document which he left in my care. I've had 'em both

As a matter of fact, however, Colin still lived and prospered in Australia, so that there would be no difficulty

"Do you mean," Sara appealed to Miles incredulously, "do you mean that there were these proofsall the

"Herrick wasn't to blame," interposed Maurice hastily, sensing the horrified accusation in her tones. "I

"My dear, you're marrying a chivalrous, quixotic fool. Maurice refused to let me show these proofs because,

on the strength of his promise to shield Geoffrey Lovell, Elisabeth had married and borne a son. Not even

"Garth! Garth!" The name by which she had always known him sprang spontaneously from Sara's lips. Her

voice was shaking, but her eyes, likes Herrick's, held a glory of quiet shining. "How could you, dear? What

"I don't see how I could have done anything else," said Maurice simply. "Elisabeth's whole scheme of

existence was fashioned on her trust in my promise. I couldn'tafterwards, after her marriage and Tim's

birthsuddenly pull away the very foundation on which she had built up her life."

"I'm gladglad you couldn't, dear," she whispered. "It would not have been my Garth if you could have

He pressed her hand in silence. A curious lassitude was stealing over him. He had borne the heat and burden

of the day, and now that the work was done and there was nothing further to fight for, nothing left to struggle

It seemed almost as though the long agony of those years of self immolation had been in vaina useless

He felt vaguely baulked and disillusionedbewildered that a man's aim and purpose, which in its

accomplishing had cost so immeasurable a pricecrushing the whole beauty and savour out of lifeshould

suddenly be destroyed and nullified. In the light of the present, the past seemed futileyears that the locust

It was a relief when presently some one broke in upon the confused turmoil of his thoughts with a message

Together they went up to his roomMaurice still with that look of grave perplexity upon his face which his

"Mother has told me everything," he said simply, going straight to the point. "It'sit's been rather a facer."

Maurice pointed to the narrow ribbonthe white, purple, white of the Military Crossupon the breast of

the khaki tunic flung across a chairbacka rather disheveled tunic, rescued with other odds and ends from

"That's just itthat's what I wanted to see you for," he said. "I hope you won't think it cheek," he went on

rather shyly, "but I wanted you to know thatthat what you did for my motherassuming the disgrace, I

mean, that wasn't yourshasn't been all wasted. What little I've donewell, it would never have been done

"No. Had my father been cashieredfor cowardice"he stumbled a little over the words"the knowledge

of it would have knocked all the initiative out of me. I should have been afraid of showing the white feather. .

. . The fear of being afraid would have been always at the back of me." He paused, then went on quickly:

"And I think it would have been the same with Dad. Itit would have broken him. He could never have

fought as he did with that behind him. You've . . . you've given two men to the country. . . ."

He broke off, boyishly embarrassed, a little overwhelmed by his own big thoughts.

And suddenly to Maurice, all that had been dark and obscure grew clear in the white shining of the light that

A beautiful and ordered issue was revealed. Out of the ruin and bleak suffering of the past had sprung the

flaming splendour of heroic life and deatha glory of achievement that, but for those arid years of silence,

Kindling to the recognition of new and wonderful significances, his eyes sought those of the woman who

For her, as for him, the dark places had been made light, and with quickened vision she perceived, in all that