f it all only seemed the deeper. She
would just sit there and hold her hand; that was all she could do; they
were beyond each other's help in any other way now. Verena leaned her
head back and closed her eyes, and for an hour, as nightfall settled in
the room, neither of the young women spoke. Distinctly, it was a kind of
shame. After a while the parlour-maid, very casual, in the manner of the
servants at Marmion, appeared on the threshold with a lamp; but Olive
motioned her frantically away. She wished to keep the darkness. It was a
kind of shame.

The next morning Basil Ransom rapped loudly with his walking-stick on
the lintel of Miss Chancellor's house-door, which, as usual on fine
days, stood open. There was no need he should wait till the servant had
answered his summons; for Olive, who had reason to believe he would
come, and who had been lurking in the sitting-room for a purpose of her
own, stepped forth into the little hall.

"I am sorry to disturb you; I had the hope that--for a moment--I might
see Miss Tarrant." That was the speech with which (and a measured
salutation) he greeted his advancing kinswoman. She faced him an
instant, and her strange green eyes caught the light.

"It's impossible. You may believe that when I say it."

"Why is it impossible?" he asked, smiling in spite of an inward
displeasure. And as Olive gave him no answer, only gazing at him with a
cold audacity which he had not hitherto observed in her, he added a
little explanation. "It is simply to have seen her before I go--to have
said five words to her. I want her to know that I have made up my
mind--since yesterday--to leave this place; I shall take the train at
noon."

It was not to gratify Olive Chancellor that he had determined to go
away, or even that he told her this; yet he was surprised that his words
brought no expression of pleasure to her face. "I don't think it is of
much importance whether you go away or not. Miss Tarrant herself has
gone away."

"Miss Tarrant--gone away?" This announcement was so much at variance
with Verena's apparent intentions the night before that his ejaculation
expressed chagrin as well as surprise, and in doing so it gave Olive a
momentary advantage. It was the only one she had ever had, and the poor
girl may be excused for having enjoyed it--so far as enjoyment was
possible to her. Basil Ransom's visible discomfiture was more agreeable
to her than anything had been for a long time.

"I went