sion would really be carried
out. Lady Shale and Hilda meant, no doubt, to give the Rocketts a good
fright, and then contemptuously pardon them. She, in any case, would return
to London without delay, and make no more trouble. A pity she had come to
the lodge at all; it was no place for one of her spirit and her
attainments.

In the morning she packed. The train which was to take her back to town
left at half-past ten, and after breakfast she walked into the village to
order a cab. Her mother would scarcely speak to her; Betsy was continually
in reproachful tears. On coming back to the lodge she saw her father
hobbling down the avenue, and walked towards him to ask the result of his
supplication. Rockett had seen Sir Edwin, but only to hear his sentence of
exile confirmed. The baronet said he was sorry, but could not interfere;
the matter lay in Lady Shale's hands, and Lady Shale absolutely refused to
hear any excuses or apologies for the insult which had been offered her
daughter.

'It's all up with us,' said the old gardener, who was pale and trembling
after his great effort. 'We must go. But don't worry, my girl, don't
worry.'

Then fright took hold upon May Rockett. She felt for the first time what
she had done. Her heart fluttered in an anguish of self-reproach, and her
eyes strayed as if seeking help. A minute's hesitation, then, with all the
speed she could make, she set off up the avenue towards the Hall.

Presenting herself at the servants' entrance, she begged to be allowed to
see the housekeeper. Of course her story was known to all the domestics,
half a dozen of whom quickly collected to stare at her, with more or less
malicious smiles. It was a bitter moment for Miss Rockett, but she subdued
herself, and at length obtained the interview she sought. With a cold air
of superiority and of disapproval the housekeeper listened to her quick,
broken sentences. Would it be possible, May asked, for her to see Lady
Shale? She desired to--to apologise for--for rudeness of which she had been
guilty, rudeness in which her family had no part, which they utterly
deplored, but for which they were to suffer severely.

'If you could help me, ma'am, I should be very grateful--indeed I should--'

Her voice all but broke into a sob. That 'ma'am' cost her a terrible
effort; the sound of it seemed to smack her on the ears.

'If you will go in-to the servants' hall and wait,' the housekeeper deigned
to say, after reflecting