Not for me!' It was dreadful! But it proves my point, I
think. Why, my dear, whatever is the matter?"

Esther, leaning against the window frame, was sobbing weakly.

"Dear me! I had no idea you would feel it so badly. Take a sip of
water--do!"

Esther struggled to regain her self-control.

"It seems so--sad," she faltered.

"Yes, of course. It is sad. And I have great sympathy with my poor
brother," went on Miss Annabel pinning down her hair net. "But do you
know, I sometimes think," she hesitated and a slow blush arose in her
middle-aged cheek, "I sometimes think that people in love aren't to be
pitied after all. Though it is hardly a thought to express to a young
girl like you.

"You know," she went on awkwardly as Esther still made no remark, "they
feel a great deal, of course, but it must be so very _interesting_. A
little cold cream for my nose, Esther. If I leave it until I get home I
shall certainly peel."

Esther provided the cream and a powder puff. She felt sick at heart. Her
calmer world of the afternoon burst like a bubble leaving only a tear
behind. The vision of Angus Macnair in the dark study reaching out
frantic hands for the thing he knew could never be his, seemed a last
touch of unendurable irony. Surely some one, somewhere, must be moved to
dreadful mirth at these blunders of the fates. From the echo of such
laughter commonplace was the only refuge. Esther bathed her eyes and
called to Jane to let her mother know that supper was ready.

The sounds of the child's cheerful tattoos upon Mrs. Coombe's door
accompanied them down the stairs, but when they had waited a few
minutes, Jane came quietly into the room alone.

"Mother doesn't answer me, Esther."

Miss Annabel looked surprised, then curious. Esther felt her face flame.
It was really too bad of Mary to make things so much harder than she
need. Her refusal to answer could only mean that she had determined to
be thoroughly disagreeable; and with company in the house. But her
annoyance was abruptly checked by the effect of the news upon the
doctor. It was not annoyance she read in his eyes. It was dismay. With a
murmured sentence, which may or may not have been excuse, he turned
from the room.

"I am so sorry," explained Esther smoothly. "Mother is not at all well,
one of her old headaches. The doctor has gone up to see if he can be
of any use."

Miss Annabel shook her head gloomily. "Mark my words," she said, "your
mother ought to ta