was telling her the truth in them, and yet he told her so little. She
even wished that she had kept up the habit of writing to Mrs. Payne;
for the least sidelight on the condition of affairs at Overton would
have been grateful to her. She did write to Mrs. Payne, but destroyed
the letter, feeling that a sudden revival of her custom when Arthur was
no longer at Lapton would seem merely ridiculous.

The Christmas holidays were a dreary time for her. Deserted by all
youth the Manor House slipped back into its ancient and melancholy
peace. Winter descended on them. She had been told that the climate
of South Devon resembled that of Connemara, but this was not the kind
of winter that she had known before. Snow never fell, as it used to
fall on her own mountains, turning Slieveannilaun into a great ghost,
and bringing the distant peaks of the Twelve Pins incredibly nearer.
Perhaps snow fell on Dartmoor; but from Lapton Dartmoor could not be
seen. In those deep valleys it could only be felt as a reservoir of
chilly moisture, or a barrier confining cold, dank air. Instead of
snowing it rained incessantly. The soft lanes became impassable with
mud, turning Lapton into a peninsula, if not an island.

At the New Year they went on a visit to Halberton House. During their
stay there Lady Barbara conceived a sudden and violent passion for
Gabrielle, that culminated in Gabrielle being taken solemnly to her
cousin's virginal bedroom and hearing the story of an old unhappy
love-affair. All the time that she listened to Lady Barbara's
plaintive voice Gabrielle was wondering what had happened at Overton,
and whether Arthur was keeping to the solemn undertaking that he had
given her. She wondered if it were possible that regard for his
mother's feelings might now be filling the place of her own influence;
if Mrs. Payne were arrogantly taking to herself the credit for the
miracle which Lapton had seen so laboriously begun. She hoped, knowing
that it was wicked of her to do so, that this had not happened. She
felt that the change in Arthur was hers and hers only. She found
herself forced to confess that she was jealous of Mrs. Payne....

"And then," said Lady Barbara, "just when I was certain, positively
certain that he cared for me--after that morning in church, you
know--his mother broke her leg huntin' in Leicestershire. The wire
came in with the mornin' letters, and the first thing I knew of his
goin' was seein' the lug