r Baby while you take Violet somewhere."

He said nothing, and she went on.

"If I were you, Ranny, I'd take her somewhere every week. I'd get her
out all I could."

And he said again for the third time, very humbly:

"All right."

And as he went he called over his shoulder, "Don't forget Monday."

As if she was likely to forget it!

CHAPTER XXI

And, after all, Monday, that is to say the day at Richmond, never came.

On Monday morning when Violet got up she was seized with a slight
dizziness and sickness. It passed off. She declared that earthquakes
shouldn't stop her going to Richmond, and dressed herself in defiance of
all possible disturbance. Ransome took the Baby over to Wandsworth, to
his mother, to be looked after. At ten o'clock he joined Winny and
Maudie and Fred Booty at St. Ann's Terrace, where they had arranged that
Violet was to meet them. Following on her bicycle, she would be there at
ten sharp, when the five would go on to Richmond by the tram that passed
Winny's door.

Ransome had no sooner left Granville than Violet slipped out to the
chemist's at the corner.

Ten o'clock struck, and the quarter and the half hour, and Violet had
not appeared at St. Ann's Terrace.

Ransome proposed that the others should go on without him; he said he
thought there must be something wrong, and that he had better go and see
what had happened. They argued about it for a while, and finally Maudie
and Fred Booty started. Winny refused flatly to go with them. She was
convinced that they would meet Violet on the road to Southfields. She
must have had a puncture, Winny said.

But they did not meet her.

And there was no sign of her downstairs at Granville.

"Hark! What's that?" said Winny, listening at the foot of the stair.
"Oh, Ranny!"

From the room above there came a low, half-stifled sound of sobbing and
groaning.

He dashed upstairs.

In a few minutes he returned to Winny in the front sitting-room.

"What's the matter? Is she ill?" she said.

"No, I don't think so. She won't tell me. She's horribly upset about
something."

"Shall I go to her?"

"No; better not, Winny. Look here, she won't come to Richmond. She says
we're to go without her."

"We can't, Ranny."

"I don't know. Upon my word, I think we may as well. She'll be more
upset if we don't go. She says she wants to be left to herself for _one_
day."

A sort of tremor passed over her eyes. They did not look at him; they
lo