ongdean Grange seemed
to stand still. The dust and the desolation were ever there. The gloom
brooded like an evil spirit. And yet it was but the calm before the storm
that was coming to banish the hoary old spectres for good.

Still, Enid felt the monotony to be as maddening as ever. There were
times when she rebelled passionately against the solitude of the place.
There were moments to her when it seemed that her mind couldn't stand the
strain much longer.

But she had hope, that blessed legacy to the sanguine and the young. And
there were times when she would creep out and see Ruth Gates, who found
the Rottingdean Road very convenient for cycling just now. And there was
always the anticipation of a telephone message from Chris. Originally the
telephone had been established so that the household could be run without
the intrusion of tradesmen and other strangers. It had seemed a great
anomaly at the time, but now Enid blessed it every moment of the day. And
she was, perhaps, not quite so unhappy as she deemed herself to be. She
had her lover back again now, with his character free from every
imputation.

The sun straggled in through the dim, dusty panes; the monotonous voice
of Mrs. Henson droned in the drawing-room. It was what Williams called
one of the unhappy lady's "days." Sometimes she was quiet and reasonable,
at other times the dark mood hung heavily upon her. She was pacing up and
down the drawing-room, wringing her hands and whimpering to herself. Enid
had slipped into the grounds for a little fresh air; the house oppressed
her terribly to-day. The trim lawns and blazing flowerbeds were a
pleasant contrast to the misery and disorder of the house.

Enid passed on into the shadow of the plantation. A little farther on
nearer the wall the dogs seemed to be excited about something. William's
rusty voice could be heard expostulating with some intruder. By him
stood a man who, though fairly well dressed, looked as if he had slept
in his garments for days. There was a dazed, puzzled, absent expression
on his face.

"You might have been killed," Williams croaked. "If you hadn't stood
still they dogs would have pulled you to pieces. How did you get here?"

"I've lost it," the stranger muttered. "I've lost it somewhere, and I
shall have no rest till I find it."

"Well, go and look in the road," Williams suggested, smoothly.
"Nothing ever gets lost here. Just you hop over that wall and try your
luck outside."