, unluckily, meant much to
him. He knew that he was of a very old stock, which had played a
long and considerable part in the world; but the fact brought him no
thrill. 'That kind of thing is played out,' he thought. Let his
father disinherit him--he was quite indifferent.

Then, as he fell silent beside his father's new secretary, the table
vanished. He saw instead the wide Picardy flats, a group of poplars,
a distant wood, and in front a certain hollow strewn with dead and
dying men--one figure, in front of the rest, lying face downwards.
The queer twisted forms, the blasted trees, the inexorable
horror--the whole vision swept over him again, as it had done in the
schoolroom. His nerves shrank and trembled under it.

Beryl--poor little Beryl! What a wretch he had been to propose to
her--in a moment of moral and physical weakness, when it had seemed
a simple thing to accept her affection and to pledge his own! But if
she stood by him, he must stand by her. And he had had the kindest
letter from Sir Henry, and some sweet tremulous words from her.
Suppose she offered to release him? His heart leapt guiltily at the
thought. What, indeed, had a man so haunted and paralysed to give to
a girl like Beryl? It was an outrage--it ought to cease.

But as to his father, that was simple enough.

The Squire and his eldest son retreated to the library after dinner,
and all the rest of the party waited uneasily to see what would
happen. Elizabeth did her best to keep things going. It might have
been noticed--it was noticed by at least two of the persons
present--that quite unobtrusively, she was already the mistress of
the house. She found a stool and a fire-screen for Mrs. Gaddesden;
she held some wool for Mrs. Strang to wind; and a backgammon board
was made ready for the Squire, in case he returned.

But he did not return. Aubrey came back alone, and found them all
hanging on his entrance. Pamela put down her knitting and looked at
him anxiously; so did the elder sisters. He went up absently to the
chimney-piece, and stood leaning against it.

'Well?' said Pamela in a low voice, as she came to sit on a stool
near him.

He smiled, but she saw that he was pale.

'Can you take me over to Chetworth to-morrow--early--in the
pony-cart?'

'Yes, certainly.'

'Half-past ten?'

'Right you are.'

No more was said. Aubrey turned at once to Alice Gaddesden and
proposed a round game. He played it with much more spirit than
usual