lped by you, that you will
consider that the present moment closes our intercourse in every way,
and will show me the respect, little as I deserve it, of proving to
me that in this one instance, at least, you believe me capable of
acting with rectitude and dignity, and of meaning what I say."

He did not answer her. He only stood profoundly still and looked at
her. That gaze, the searching, scrutinizing power of it, made her
afraid. Trembling with terror of what she might reveal in answer to
it, she turned suddenly and vanished through a door behind her,
leaving him standing there, and with a consciousness that his keen
eyes were on her yet, reading what she so ardently desired to
conceal.

Once in her own room, she locked the door, and then ran swiftly to
the window, which gave her a view of the terrace below.

There she saw waiting a hired trap, with its driver drowsing in the
sunlight. As she looked, she saw the man from whom she had just
parted come rather slowly down the steps and get into the shabby
conveyance. His hat-brim hid the upper part of his face, but she saw
the stern set of his jaw, the bronzed pallor of his cheeks.

She watched the little trap until it had disappeared behind some
great oaks, which were one of the glories of Kingdon Hall. In a
strange way she had come to love this stately old place, and it gave
her a pang to feel that she was about to look her last on it. This
feeling, however, was subordinated to another, which literally tore
her heart; this was that, by the use of every means of thought and
action within her power, she had quite determined never to run the
risk of seeing this man again.

She knew that her only safety lay in flight, and she set to work at
once to make her preparations to fly.

CHAPTER XIII

In the days that followed, Bettina's only resource was in bodily
activity. She wrote at once and took her passage on a steamer to sail
for America one week from the day of Horace's visit. Then, with
Nora's help, she set to work to do her packing. The French maid was
sent away, and her lady refused all other offers of service.

Her first impulse had been to leave all her wardrobe and personal
belongings behind her, and this she would undoubtedly have done but
for the counteracting instinct to remove from any possibility of
the sight of the future occupant of these apartments any smallest
reminder of the late Lady Hurdly. No doubt another bearer of that
name would so