been unjust to me----"

Her body trembled with agitation--she was not far from one of her old
tempests of passion.

But the Duchess smiled. "You exaggerate, Rachel, your old fault. At any
rate, I'll be gone soon, I suppose--it will seem trivial enough one
day...." Then as Rachel, turning to the door, left her--"But hurt a hair
of Roddy's head, my dear, and--well, you'll hate me more than ever----"

III

When Rachel had gone the Duchess felt very ill indeed. She had only to
touch a bell and Dorchester would be with her, but she did not intend to
summon Dorchester before she need.

She felt now, at this minute, that her spirit of resistance had almost
snapped. Again and again, throughout the last months, the temptation to
lie down and surrender had swept up, beaten about her walls and then
sunk, defeated, back again.

But this last week of disaster had tried her severely. Her pride in life
had been largely her pride in the arrangement of it and now all that
arrangement was tumbling to pieces and she powerless to prevent it. For
the first time in all her days she felt that she would like to have
someone with her who would reassure her--someone less acid than
Dorchester.

Why had she never had a companion--a woman like Miss Rand who would
understand without being sentimental?

There was pain in every muscle and nerve of her body: it swept up and
down her old limbs in hot waves.... She clutched the arms of her chair.

Even her brain, that had always been so sharp and clear, was now
confused a little and passed strange unusual pictures before her eyes.
That girl ... yes ... Dorchester had been very clever about that:
Dorchester had been in communication with Breton's man-servant for a
long time past. To go to tea there ... to be alone with him ... Roddy--

And at that dearly loved name all was sharp and accurate. Night and day
she was terrified lest she should suddenly hear that he was off to South
Africa. She believed that that would really kill her. Roddy--her
Roddy--to go and make another of those ghastly tragedies with which the
newspapers were now full. But let Rachel disdain him and he would go
merely to show her how fine a fellow he was--what idiots men were!

Or let this other thing become a scandal, then surely he would go.

She shook there in her chair and then with her eyes fixed on the fire
prayed to whatever gods or devils were hers that he might not go.
Anything, anything so that he might not g