t. You love it. It's me you can't stand."

"No, Ally--no."

She plunged for another argument and found it.

"What I can't stand is living with Papa."

Ally agreed that this was rather more than plausible.

XXXVIII

The next person to be told was Rowcliffe.

It was known in the village through the telegrams that Gwenda was
going away. The postmistress told Mrs. Gale, who told Mrs. Blenkiron.
These two persons and four or five others had known ever since Sunday
that the Vicar's daughter was going away; and the Vicar did not know
it yet.

And Mrs. Blenkiron told Rowcliffe on the Wednesday before Alice told
him.

For it was Alice who told him, and not Gwenda. Gwenda was not at home
when he called at the Vicarage at three o'clock. But he heard from
Alice that she would be back at four.

And it was Alice who told Mrs. Gale that when the doctor called again
he was to be shown into the study.

He had waited there thirteen minutes before Gwenda came to him.

He looked at her and was struck by a difference he found in her,
a difference that recalled some look in her face that he had seen
before. It was dead white, and in its whiteness her blue eyes, dark
and dilated, quivered with defiance and a sort of fear. She looked
older and at the same time younger, as young as Alice and as helpless
in her fear. Then he remembered that she had looked like that the
night she had passed him in the doorway of the house at Upthorne.

"How cold your hands are," he said.

She hid them behind her back as if they had betrayed her.

"Do you want to see me about Ally?"

"No, I don't want to see you about Ally. I want to see you about
yourself."

Her eyes quivered again.

"Won't you come into the drawing-room, then?"

"I'd rather stay here if you don't mind. I say, how much time have I?"

"Till when?"

"Well--till your father comes back?"

"He won't be back for another hour. But--"

"I hear you're going away on Friday; and that you're going for good."

"Did Mary tell you?"

"No. It was Alice. She said I was to try and stop you."

"You can't stop me if I want to go."

"I'll do my best."

They stood, as they talked, in rigid attitudes that suggested that
neither was going to yield an inch.

"Why didn't you tell me yourself, Gwenda?"

She closed her eyes. It was as if she had forgotten why.

"Was it because you knew I wouldn't let you? Did you want to go as
much as all that?"

"It looks like it, doesn't