ence, you know."

She left him standing there motionless, looking after her, his eyes
narrowed in thought. She was careless now as to what he recalled or
didn't recall. What difference could it make?

"Come in, my dear. I'm trying to write some of my many letters--such a
trying task!"

The old lady was sitting up in bed with her writing materials before
her on a little bed-table. She smiled at Esther, but her face looked
weary and old, with lines of grief that had not been there a month ago.

"Are you going out?"

"I'm leaving, Miss Clifford. I came to say good-bye."

Miss Clifford's jaw dropped; she laid down her pen and stared.

"Good-bye? Not now, surely! I thought----"

"So did I, but it was a mistake. Lady Clifford doesn't need me any
more."

There was no doubt that the old lady was as much astonished as she was
distressed.

"But, I don't understand! I thought, of course, that you were going to
stay on a bit, at least until we know about Roger!"

Esther felt awkward, uncertain what to say.

"It's quite all right, Miss Clifford. Your sister-in-law doesn't think
there's any good keeping me on. She told me half an hour ago."

In spite of her efforts her eyes met the old lady's honest ones for a
second. Then the old lady shook her head helplessly, looking both
embarrassed and regretful.

"If only it were my house, my dear," she faltered uncomfortably. "Of
course you know how I felt about it. I took it for granted ...
besides, we looked upon you more as a friend than as a mere nurse, you
know that. Roger will be dreadfully upset when he hears."

"Never mind, I shall hope to see you very soon. I'm not leaving Cannes
just yet. I shall ring up to-morrow to inquire how you all are."

"Yes, please do!"

Miss Clifford took her hand and gave it a squeeze, troubled frown
wrinkling her forehead.

"I wish I knew what to do about Roger. I am sure he has kept going by
sheer will power and obstinacy. I am so afraid I shall have all the
same dreadful uncertainty over again, just as I did with poor Charles."

"Oh, no, he's a young man, remember," Esther reassured her quickly.
"He will be all right, only you must make him go to bed."

"I persuaded him to lie down after lunch, and he's sound asleep now, so
Chalmers tells me. I wonder if I ought to tell him you're going?
He'll be so cross when he finds out."

"Not on any account," Esther forbade her firmly. "It would be wrong to
disturb him