e her "innings," Stamfordham passed out
before her eyes with Rachel, saying to Lady Adela as he passed, "Will
you forgive me? I am going to take Mrs. Rendel back." Then looking round
him at the jostling crowd he said to Rachel, offering her his arm, "Will
you think me very old-fashioned if I ask you to take my arm to get
through the crowd?" And, leaning on his arm, hardly daring to believe
what had happened or might be going to happen, Rachel passed back along
the room through which she had just come with Pateley, the crowd this
time opening before them with some indescribable tacit understanding
that something had happened concerned with the incident which, as Rendel
had foreseen, nearly everybody at the bazaar had heard of. They did not
speak again until they reached the pavilion.

Latchkeys were unknown at Schleppenheim, and the inhabitants of the
little summer abodes walked in by the simple process of turning the
handle of the front door. Rachel and Stamfordham went straight in out of
the sunlight into the cool little room into which, in long low rays, the
setting sun was sending its beams. Rendel had been trying to read: the
book that lay beside him on the floor showed that the attempt had been
in vain. He looked up, still with that strange, hunted expression that
had come into his face since the morning--the expression of the man to
whom every door opening, every figure that comes in may mean some fresh
cause of apprehension. Rachel came into the room without speaking,
something that he could not read in the least in her face, then his
heart stood still within him as he saw Stamfordham behind her. What,
again? What new ordeal awaited him? He made no sign of recognition, but
stood up and looked Stamfordham straight in the face. Stamfordham came
forward and spoke.

"I have come," he said, "to apologise to you for what took place to-day,
to beg you to forgive me." Rendel was so utterly astounded that he
simply looked from one to the other of the people standing before him
without uttering a sound.

"I have just learnt," Stamfordham went on, "the name of the person who
did the thing of which I wrongfully accused you." Rendel made a hurried
movement forward as if to stop him.

"Wait, wait one moment!" he cried, "don't say it before my wife--she
doesn't know." In that moment Rachel realised what he had done for her.

"Do you know?" asked Stamfordham.

"Yes," Rendel answered.

With the old friendliness, and somet