eemed to shake the very foundations of her
existence? As yet she had not remembered perfectly all that had gone on
under the shadow of the beech grove. She dared not face it all at once,
even as yet. Time must elapse before she should dare to cry; to think of
her loss of Harold was to risk breaking down altogether. Already she
felt weak. The strain of the last forty-eight hours was too much for her
physical strength. She began to feel, as she lay back in her cushioned
chair, that a swoon is no worthy substitute for sleep. Indeed it had
seemed to make the need for sleep even more imperative.

It was all too humiliating! She wanted to think over what had been; to
recall it as far as possible so as to fix it in her mind, whilst it was
still fresh. Later on, some action might have to be based on her
recollection. And yet . . . How could she think when she was so tired
. . . tired . . .

Nature came to the poor girl's relief at last, and she fell into a heavy
sleep . . .

It was like coming out of the grave to be dragged back to waking life out
of such a sleep, and so soon after it had begun. But the voice seemed to
reach to her inner consciousness in some compelling way. For a second
she could not understand; but as she rose from the cushions the maid's
message repeated, brought her wide awake and alert in an instant:

'Mr. Everard, young Mr. Everard, to see you, miss!'

CHAPTER XVI--A PRIVATE CONVERSATION

The name braced Stephen at once. Here was danger, an enemy to be
encountered; all the fighting blood of generations leaped to the
occasion. The short spell of sleep had helped to restore her. There
remained still quite enough of mental and nervous excitement to make her
think quickly; the words were hardly out of the maid's mouth before her
resolution was taken. It would never do to let Leonard Everard see she
was diffident about meeting him; she would go down at once. But she
would take the precaution of having her aunt present; at any rate, till
she should have seen how the land lay. Her being just waked from sleep
would be an excuse for asking her aunt to see the visitor till she came
down. So she said to the maid:

'I have been asleep. I must have got tired walking in the wood in the
heat. Ask Auntie to kindly see Mr. Everard in the blue drawing-room till
I come down. I must tidy my hair; but I will be down in a few minutes.'

'Shall I send Marjorie to you, miss?'

'No! Don't