tless, and he reminded her of what a French poet had said
on the subject of beauty. But she only turned her fair head impatiently,
and a little later on when her mother spoke to her she burst into tears.
Nor was she as easily consoled as usual, and she did not become calm
until Mrs. Barton suggested that her dear child was ill, and that she
would go upstairs and put her to bed. Then, looking a little alarmed,
Olive declared she was quite well, but she passionately begged to be
left alone. As they left the dining-room she attempted to slip away;
Alice made a movement as if to follow her, but Mrs. Barton said:

'Leave her to herself, Alice; she would rather be left alone. She has
overstrained her nerves, that is all.'

Olive heard these words with a singular satisfaction, and as she
ascended the stairs from the first landing, her heart beat less
violently. On the threshold of her room she paused to listen for the
drawing-room door to shut. Through the silent house the lock sounded
sharply.

'I hope none of them will come upstairs bothering after me,' the girl
murmured to herself. 'If they do I shall go mad;' and standing in the
middle of the floor she looked round the room vacantly, unable to
collect her thoughts. The wardrobe was on her right, and, seeing herself
in the glass, she wondered if she were looking well. Her eyes wandered
from her face to her shoulders, and thence to her feet. Going over to
the toilette-table she sought amid her boots, and, having selected a
strong pair, she began to button them. Her back was turned to the door,
and at the slightest sound she started. Once or twice the stairs
creaked, and she felt something would occur to stop her. Her heart was
beating so violently that she thought she was going to be ill; and she
almost burst out crying because she could not make up her mind if she
should put on a hat and travelling-shawl, or run down to the wood as she
was, to meet the Captain. 'He will surely,' she thought, 'have something
in the carriage to put around me, but he may bring the dog-cart, and it
looks very cold. But if Alice or mamma saw me coming downstairs with a
shawl on, they'd suspect something, and I shouldn't be able to get away.
I wonder what time it is? I promised to meet Edward at nine; he'll of
course wait for me, but what time is it? We dined at half-past seven; we
were an hour at dinner, half-past eight, and I have been ten minutes
here. It must be nearly nine now, and it will