er,
brings one something like more wisdom, one can judge of the proportion
of things somehow, nothing seems quite so surprising, so
extraordinary--or so impossible," she added with a faint smile, with the
intuition of the point that Rachel had arrived at. And Rachel was ready
to take perfectly for granted that she should have been so followed. Her
absolute reliance on the wise and tender confidante by her side, the
habit of placing her first and referring everything to her was stronger
unconsciously to herself, than even the natural desire of her age to hug
the secret she was carrying, to keep it jealously from any eyes but her
own.

"Of course, of course, I know that," she said without looking up, "and
my first thought always is that I will tell you. In fact," she went on
with a little laugh, "I never know what I think myself until I have told
you, and heard what it sounds like when I am saying it to you, and seen
what you look like when you listen--only----" she stopped again.

"Darling," said Lady Gore, "never feel that you must tell me a word more
than you wish to say."

"Well," said Rachel hesitating, "the only thing is that to-day I
must--perhaps--you would know something about it presently in any
case...." And she stopped again.

"Presently? why?" said Lady Gore. Rachel made no answer.

"Is Mr. Rendel coming here to-day?" said Lady Gore, trying to speak in
her ordinary voice.

"Yes," said Rachel, "he is coming to see you."

"I shall be very glad to see him," said Lady Gore. "I always am."

"I know, yes," said Rachel. Then with a sudden effort, "It is no use,
mother, I must tell you; you must know first." Then she paused again.
"This morning we went out in the boat----" she stopped.

"Yes," said Lady Gore, "and Sir Charles Miniver was unfortunately too
old to go with you--or fortunately, perhaps?"

"I am not sure which," said Rachel. "I am not sure," she repeated
slowly.

"Rachel, did Francis Rendel...."

"Yes," said Rachel, "he asked me to marry him."

Lady Gore laid her hand on her daughter's. "What did you say to him?"

Rachel looked up quickly. "Surely you know. I told him it would be
impossible."

"Impossible?" her mother repeated.

"Of course, impossible," Rachel said. "We needn't discuss it, mother
dear," she went on with an effort. "You know I could not go away from
you; you could not do without me. You could not, could you?" she went on
imploringly. "I should be dreadfully saddened if