ay that it
would be better if we left here. And on top of that you must needs go
and dance in the moonlight, of all things, while Dan Storran looks on!
What ordinary man is going to keep his head in such circumstances, do
you suppose? Especially when he was more than half in love with you to
start with. . . . Oh, I should like to shake you!"

"Well, I'll leave now--as soon as ever you like," replied Magda,
slipping down from the bed. She was unwontedly meek, from which Gillian
judged that for once she felt herself unable to cope with the situation
she had created. "Will you arrange it?"

Gillian shrugged her shoulders.

"I suppose so," she returned resignedly. "As usual, you break the
crockery and someone else has to sweep up the pieces."

Magda bent down and kissed her.

"You're such a dear, Gillyflower," she said with that impulsive, lovable
charm of manner which it was so difficult to resist. "Still"--her voice
hardening a little--"perhaps there are a few odd bits that I'll have to
sweep up myself."

And she departed to her own room to complete her morning toilette,
leaving Gillian wondering rather anxiously what she could have meant.

When, half an hour later, the two girls descended for breakfast, Dan
Storran was not visible. He had gone off early to work, June explained,
and Magda experienced a sensation of distinct relief. She had dreaded
meeting Dan this morning. The mad, bizarre scene of the night before,
with sudden unleashing of savage and ungoverned passions, had shaken
even her insouciant poise, though she was very far from seeing it in its
true proportions.

June received Gillian's intimation that they proposed leaving Stockleigh
Farm that day without comment. She was very quiet and self-contained,
and busied herself in making the necessary arrangements for their
departure, sending a boy into Ashencombe to order the wagonette from
the Crown and Bells to take them to the station whilst she herself
laboriously made out the account that was owing. When she presented the
latter, with a perfectly composed and business-like air, and proceeded
conscientiously to stamp and receipt it, no one could have guessed how
bitter a thing it was to her to accept Miss Vallincourt's money. Within
herself she recognised that every penny of it had been earned at the
cost of her own happiness.

But as she stood at the gate, watching the ancient vehicle from the
Crown and Bells bearing the London visitors towards the s