thing as usual. Had an eye been observant of
her, it would have been noticed that Mrs. Conyers in all her
self-concealment did not conceal one thing--her walk. This one
element of her conduct had its curious psychology. She had never
been able to forget that certain scandals set going many years
before, had altered the course of Mrs. Meredith's life and of the
lives of some others. After a lapse of so long a time she had no
fear now that she should be discovered. Nevertheless it was
impossible for her ever to approach this house without "coming
delicately." She "came delicately" in the same sense that Agag,
king of Amalek, walked when he was on his way to Saul, who was
about to hew him to pieces before the Lord in Gilgal.

She approached the house now, observant of everything as she
tripped. Had a shutter been hung awry; if a window shade had been
drawn too low or a pane of glass had not sparkled, or there had
been loose paper on the ground or moulted feathers on the bricks,
she would have discovered this with the victorious satisfaction of
finding fault. But orderliness prevailed. No; the mat at the
front door had been displaced by Rowan's foot as he had hurried
from the house. (The impulse was irresistible: she adjusted it
with her toe and planted herself on it with a sense of triumph.)

As she took out her own and Isabel's cards, she turned and looked
out across the old estate. This was the home she had designed for
Isabel: the land, the house, the silver, the glass, the memories,
the distinction--they must all be Isabel's.

Some time passed before Mrs. Meredith appeared. Always a woman of
dignity and reserve, she had never before in her life perhaps worn
a demeanor so dignified and reserved. Her nature called for peace;
but if Rowan had been wronged, then there was no peace--and a
sacred war is a cruel one. The instant that the two ladies
confronted each other, each realized that each concealed something
from the other. This discovery instantly made Mrs. Meredith cooler
still; it rendered Mrs. Conyers more cordial.

"Isabel regretted that she could not come."

"I am sorry." The tone called for the dismissal of the subject.

"This is scarcely a visit to you," Mrs. Conyers went on; "I have
been paying one of my usual pastoral calls: I have been to Ambrose
Webb's to see if my cows are ready to return to town. Strawberries
are ripe and strawberries call for more cream, and more cream calls
for m