going to leave it
so. Every particle of her being rebelled against what she had seen and
she would rather doubt her senses than her love. "I except Godfrey, of
course," she said, lifting up her head with a little laugh. "_He_
remains stable."

"Yes. Yes. Of course," responded Miss Ethel absently, her mind so
full of what they had just decided to do that she could think of
nothing else. "Then you will tell Godfrey? I don't think there is any
need for me to write."

"He will come in to see you, no doubt." Laura had remained standing
since that moment when she rose hastily from her seat, and she went
forward now with a gesture which showed she did not intend to sit down
again. "I have such heaps to do this morning. I'm afraid I must run
away now."

But as she touched Miss Ethel's hand with her own she was startled by
its icy coldness. In a moment her sympathy flowed back again over
those dreadful thoughts, washing them away. "I know you'll love your
new home when you get settled, and you will have all your friends just
the same. More, because you will be nearer the town." And she pressed
her lips to that white cheek.

Miss Ethel did not seem to relax in that embrace, or to be in the least
sensible of the natural kindness which permeated every fibre of Laura's
being like the sweetness of sun-warmed fruit, but perhaps she did feel
a little comforted by that soft human contact all the same.

For she went with the guest to the door and stood alone there watching
until the sound of steps and the click of the gate gave place to
silence. The builders had gone away for their dinner-hour, and the
close-shaven grass in the sunshine near the high hedge seemed so
cloistered--so much more remote than it really was. Before those new
houses came, you need not see anything beyond the privet hedge unless
you wished---- But now the outside was close upon her. It was time to
give in and go away.

As she stood there with the neat curled hair over her forehead blowing
in the wind, and her short skirt and blouse trimly set about her spare
figure, she was thinking thoughts which were almost incredibly
different from what she looked--seeking all over the world with a sort
of desperate forlornness for a corner where her mind could find rest.

Then the very quiet of the half-built houses over the hedge reminded
her that she must go in to fry the rissoles for the midday dinner, but
she revolted from the anticipated smell o