asy. If one were ever sure--" His brow darkened, but
meeting her eyes, he smiled, throwing aside the dark thought, with an
effort to match her own. "Doubt is forbidden, I suppose, with other
repinings? Well! the Queen must be obeyed. Do you remember saying that
it was little use to possess a Happy Land so far away that you could
rarely see it? And behold the next move in the game is that you are
plumped down at its very gates! How many times have you visited your
domain since we were here together in summer?"

"Not once. When I have ridden over it has been to see your mother, and
I don't care to leave Miggles for long at a time. Besides, I think I
shirked it. It was winter, and the trees were bare, and I was alone,
and it is difficult to be very happy all by oneself, and sometimes I was
in a contrary mood, when I did not even want to _try_. But I am glad to
be here to-day. I am glad you brought me."

"I must bring you again. I must come down oftener. As you are giving
up your life to help Miggles, it is the duty of all her friends to make
things as easy as possible. I shall feel that Seacliff has a double
claim on me if I can help you as well as my mother. It will be good for
us both to come here and be compelled towards happiness."

Vanna's smile of acknowledgment was somewhat forced. It would have been
unmixed joy to look forward to the promised visits, but for those two
words which stood out in such jarring prominence that they seemed to
obscure her joy. "Duty," "Claim." When in the history of woman did she
appreciate a service thus offered by a member of the opposite sex?

"That is very kind of you," she answered formally. "After the
excitements of London, Seacliff must seem very dull at this time of
year. How long are you going to stay this time?"

"Until--" he hesitated for a moment--"until Monday."

That evening, when Vanna went up to her own room, she sat for an hour
beside her little window facing the bay, living over again the events of
the day.

Duty! Claim! For the hundredth time the words tolled in her ears. She
looked over the grey waste of waters and saw in them a type of her own
colourless life. Duty! Claim! But then the scene shifted. She was
back again in the library of the Manor House, listening to old Mrs
Rendall's words of lament. "He is no sooner here than he has gone. He
tells me he must positively leave on Friday." Why had Piers elected to
stay on? She was ba