ck again in the dining-room, feeling his gaze upon
her--a gaze so deep, so pregnant with meaning that it had forced the
question from her lips, "What is it? What are you thinking about?"

"You! Here! In this house. The difference it makes--the astounding
difference--"

_What_ difference was it which her presence made? His eyes told her
that it was a difference of gain.

A twinkling light shone out on the darkness, flashed and waned, flashed
again into brighter glow. The waste of waters was illumined with light.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE SANEST WOMAN.

During the remainder of the winter Piers Rendall paid frequent visits to
Seacliff, appearing at unexpected moments, sometimes after but a week's
interval, sometimes but once in the month. The feeling that he might
arrive at any moment brought an element of excitement into Vanna's quiet
life. It was delightful to awake in the morning and feel that there was
something to which she could look forward--an object towards which to
move. When he came there would be invigorating gallops across the
downs, visits to the Happy Land, where each was bound to cast care to
the winds; happy tea-parties in the dining-room; cosy chats round the
fire, Miggles lying on her sofa, Vanna seated on the footstool by her
side, Piers in his favourite position on the hearthrug, his long legs
stretched out, his back resting against the wall. Sometimes he would
recount the doings of the great city, and discuss politics up to date
for the edification of the two women, who were keenly interested in the
course of events. Sometimes he would read aloud from a book in which
Miggles was interested; sometimes they would roast chestnuts, and laugh
and jest and cap amusing anecdotes like a party of merry children.
Looking at Piers's face illumined by the firelight on one of these
occasions, a sudden vision flashed before Vanna's eyes of that face as
she had seen it first. The tightly drawn skin, the down-turned lips,
the hard brilliancy of the eyes, the nervous twitching of the features.
This man smiling upon her looked strong, and happy, and glad. Whence
had come the change?

At Whitsuntide Jean and Robert came down for a three days' visit--the
first since their marriage, and the little cottage was filled with the
atmosphere of spring and joy. Two people more utterly content, more
beautiful in their happiness, it would be impossible to conceive. Jean
was in her gayest, least responsible