would write to her
grandfather again, though this day there was no time to do so.

Guida realised now that she must announce the marriage at once. But what
proofs of it had she? There was the ring Philip had given her, inscribed
with their names; but she was sophisticated enough to know that this
would not be adequate evidence in the eyes of her Jersey neighbours.
The marriage register of St. Michael's, with its record, was stolen,
and that proof was gone. Lastly, there were Philip's letters; but no--a
thousand times no!--she would not show Philip's letters to any human
being; even the thought of it hurt her delicacy, her self-respect. Her
heart burned with fresh bitterness to think that there had been a secret
marriage. How hard it was at this distance of time to tell the world the
tale, and to be forced to prove it by Philip's letters. No, no, in spite
of all, she could not do it--not yet. She would still wait the arrival
of his letter to her grandfather. If it did not come soon, then she must
be brave and tell her story.

She went to the Vier Marchi less now. Also fewer folk stood gossiping
with her grandfather in the Place du Vier Prison, or by the well at
the front door--so far he had not wondered why. To be sure, Maitresse
Aimable came oftener; but, since that notable day at Sark, Guida had
resolutely avoided reference, however oblique, to Philip and herself.
In her dark days the one tenderly watchful eye upon her was that of the
egregiously fat old woman called the "Femme de Ballast," whose thick
tongue clave to the roof of her mouth, whose outer attractions were so
meagre that even her husband's chief sign of affection was to pull her
great toe, passing her bed of a morning to light the fire.

Carterette Mattingley also came, but another friend who had watched over
Guida for years before Philip appeared in the Place du Vier Prison
never entered her doorway now. Only once or twice since that day on
the Ecrehos, so fateful to them both, had Guida seen Ranulph. He had
withdrawn to St. Aubin's Bay, where his trade of ship-building was
carried on, and having fitted up a small cottage, lived a secluded life
with his father there. Neither of them appeared often in St. Heliers,
and they were seldom or never seen in the Vier Marchi.

Carterette saw Ranulph little oftener than did Guida, but she knew what
he was doing, being anxious to know, and every one's business being
every one else's business in Jersey. In the sam