friendliness. When the
fifty pounds mention of it. The next day, however, Mrs. Higgins
being absent when Emmeline looked in, Louise said with an air of
satisfaction,

'So he has paid the money! I'm very glad of that.'

'Mr. Cobb insisted on paying,' Mrs. Mumford answered with reserve.
'We could not hurt his feelings by refusing.'

'Well, that's all right, isn't it? You won't think so badly of us
now? Of course you wish you'd never set eyes on me, Mrs. Mumford;
but that's only natural: in your place I'm sure I should feel the
same. Still, now the money's paid, you won't always think unkindly
of me, will you?'

The girl lay propped on pillows; her pale face, with its healing
scars, bore witness to what she had undergone, and one of her arms
was completely swathed in bandages. Emmeline did not soften towards
her, but the frank speech, the rather pathetic little smile, in
decency demanded a suave response.

'I shall wish you every happiness, Louise.'

'Thank you. We shall be married as soon as ever I'm well, but I'm
sure I don't know where. Mother hates his very name, and does her
best to set me against him; but I just let her talk. We're beginning
to quarrel a little--did you hear us this morning? I try to keep
down my voice, and I shan't be here much longer, you know. I shall
go home at first my stepfather has written a kind letter, and of
course he's glad to know I shall marry Mr. Cobb. But I don't think
the wedding will be there. It wouldn't be nice to go to church in a
rage, as I'm sure I should with mother and Cissy looking on.'

This might, or might not, signify a revival of the wish to be
married from 'Runnymede.' Emmeline quickly passed to another
subject.

Mrs. Higgins was paying a visit to Coburg Lodge, where, during the
days of confusion, the master of the house had been left at his
servants' mercy. On her return, late in the evening, she entered
flurried and perspiring, and asked the servant who admitted her
where Mrs. Mumford was.

'With master, in the library, 'm.'

'Tell her I wish to speak to her at once.'

Emmeline came forth, and a lamp was lighted in the dining-room, for
the drawing-room had not yet been restored to a habitable condition.
Silent, and wondering in gloomy resignation what new annoyance was
prepared for her, Emmeline sat with eyes averted, whilst the stout
woman mopped her face and talked disconnectedly of the hardships of
travelling in such weather as this; when at length s