ld ideas flashed through her
head. She would go down and confront Vivienne LeMar--she would rush
off and find Spencer and throw his ring at him, no matter where he
was--she would go away where no one would ever see her again. Why
couldn't she die? Was it possible people could suffer like this and
yet go on living?

"I don't care--I don't care!" she moaned, telling the lie aloud to
herself, as if she hoped that by this means she would come to believe
it.

When twilight came she went out to the front steps and leaned her
aching head against the honeysuckle trellis. The sun had just set and
the whole world swam in dusky golden light. The wonderful beauty
frightened her. She felt like a blot on it.

While she stood there, a buggy came driving up the lane and wheeled
about at the steps. In it was Spencer Morgan.

Estella saw him and, in spite of the maddening throb of hope that
seemed suddenly to transfigure the world for her, her pride rose in
arms. Had Spencer come the night before, he would have found her
loving and humble. Even now, had she but been sure that he had come to
see her, she would have unbent. But was it the other? The torturing
doubt stung her to the quick.

She waited, stubbornly resolved that she would not speak first. It was
not in her place. Spencer Morgan flicked his horse sharply with his
whip. He dared not look at Estella, but he felt her uncompromising
attitude. He was miserably ashamed of himself, and he felt angry at
Estella for his shame.

"Do you care to come for a drive?" he asked awkwardly, with a covert
glance at the parlour windows.

Estella caught the glance and her jealous perception instantly divined
its true significance. Her heart died within her. She did not care
what she said.

"Oh," she cried with a toss of her head, "it's not me you want--it's
Miss LeMar, isn't it? She's away at the shore. You'll find her there,
I dare say."

Still, in spite of all, she perversely hoped. If he would only make
any sign, the least in the world, that he was sorry--that he still
loved her--she could forgive him everything. When he drove away
without another word, she could not believe it again. Surely he would
not go--surely he knew she did not mean it--he would turn back before
he got to the gate.

But he did not. She saw him disappear around the turn of the road. She
could not see if he took the shore lane further on, but she was sure
he would. She was furious at herself for acting as sh