da turned. There in the doorway were her Uncles John and Stanley
coming in, followed by her father and Uncle Tod.

What did this mean? What had they come for? And, disturbed to the heart,
she gazed from one to the other. They had that curious look of people
not quite knowing what their reception will be like, yet with something
resolute, almost portentous, in their mien. She saw John go up to her
aunt and hold out his hand.

"I dare say Felix and Nedda have told you about yesterday," he said.
"Stanley and I thought it best to come over." Kirsteen answered:

"Tod, will you tell Mother who's here?"

Then none of them seemed to know quite what to say, or where to look,
till Frances Freeland, her face all pleased and anxious, came in.
When she had kissed them they all sat down. And Nedda, at the window,
squeezed her hands tight together in her lap.

"We've come about Derek," John said.

"Yes," broke in Stanley. "For goodness' sake, Kirsteen, don't let's have
any more of this! Just think what would have happened yesterday if that
poor fellow hadn't providentially gone off the hooks!"

"Providentially!"

"Well, it was. You see to what lengths Derek was prepared to go. Hang it
all! We shouldn't have been exactly proud of a felon in the family."

Frances Freeland, who had been lacing and unlacing her fingers, suddenly
fixed her eyes on Kirsteen.

"I don't understand very well, darling, but I am sure that whatever
dear John says will be wise and right. You must remember that he is the
eldest and has a great deal of experience."

Kirsteen bent her head. If there was irony in the gesture, it was not
perceived by Frances Freeland.

"It can't be right for dear Derek, or any gentleman, to go against the
law of the land or be mixed up with wrong-doing in any way. I haven't
said anything, but I HAVE felt it very much. Because--it's all been not
quite nice, has it?"

Nedda saw her father wince. Then Stanley broke in again:

"Now that the whole thing's done with, do, for Heaven's sake, let's have
a little peace!"

At that moment her aunt's face seemed wonderful to Nedda; so quiet, yet
so burningly alive.

"Peace! There is no peace in this world. There is death, but no peace!"
And, moving nearer to Tod, she rested her hand on his shoulder, looking,
as it seemed to Nedda, at something far away, till John said:

"That's hardly the point, is it? We should be awfully glad to know that
there'll be no more trouble. All this