and fever of her mind with more vigor than she was accustomed to
show in her normal moods--a fever which the solace of a cigarette did
not entirely allay. Reaching the coppice, she listlessly observed
Marty at work, threw away her cigarette, and came near. Chop, chop,
chop, went Marty's little billhook with never more assiduity, till Mrs.
Charmond spoke.

"Who is that young lady I see talking to the woodman yonder?" she asked.

"Mrs. Fitzpiers, ma'am," said Marty.

"Oh," said Mrs. Charmond, with something like a start; for she had not
recognized Grace at that distance. "And the man she is talking to?"

"That's Mr. Winterborne."

A redness stole into Marty's face as she mentioned Giles's name, which
Mrs. Charmond did not fail to notice informed her of the state of the
girl's heart. "Are you engaged to him?" she asked, softly.

"No, ma'am," said Marty. "SHE was once; and I think--"

But Marty could not possibly explain the complications of her thoughts
on this matter--which were nothing less than one of extraordinary
acuteness for a girl so young and inexperienced--namely, that she saw
danger to two hearts naturally honest in Grace being thrown back into
Winterborne's society by the neglect of her husband. Mrs. Charmond,
however, with the almost supersensory means to knowledge which women
have on such occasions, quite understood what Marty had intended to
convey, and the picture thus exhibited to her of lives drifting away,
involving the wreck of poor Marty's hopes, prompted her to more
generous resolves than all Melbury's remonstrances had been able to
stimulate.

Full of the new feeling, she bade the girl good-afternoon, and went on
over the stumps of hazel to where Grace and Winterborne were standing.
They saw her approach, and Winterborne said, "She is coming to you; it
is a good omen. She dislikes me, so I'll go away." He accordingly
retreated to where he had been working before Grace came, and Grace's
formidable rival approached her, each woman taking the other's measure
as she came near.

"Dear--Mrs. Fitzpiers," said Felice Charmond, with some inward turmoil
which stopped her speech. "I have not seen you for a long time."

She held out her hand tentatively, while Grace stood like a wild animal
on first confronting a mirror or other puzzling product of
civilization. Was it really Mrs. Charmond speaking to her thus? If it
was, she could no longer form any guess as to what it signified.

"I wan