'Yes, I know: but the walls have ears in this house: one is never safe
near the conservatory: there are too many doors. Tell me, Max, how have
you got on with Miss Darrell this morning?'

'I was praying hard for patience all the time,' he replied, half
laughing. 'It was maddening to see her sitting there so cool and crisp
in her yellow tea-gown--well, what garment was it?' as I uttered a
dissenting ejaculation: 'something flimsy and aesthetic. I thought her
smooth sentences would never stop.'

'Did she notice any change in your manner to her?'

'I am afraid so, for I saw her look at me quite uneasily more than once.
I could not conceal that I was terribly bored. I have no wish to be
discourteous to a lady, especially to one of my own church workers; but
after what has passed I find it very difficult to forgive her.'

This was strong language on Max's part. I could see that as a woman he
could hardly tolerate her, but he could not bring himself to condemn her
even to me. He hardly knew yet what he had to forgive: neither he nor
Gladys had any real idea of the treachery that had separated them.

Max would not stay many minutes, he was so afraid of Miss Darrell coming
into the room again. I did rather an imprudent thing after that. Max was
going to the Maberleys', for the colonel was seriously ill, so I begged
him to go the garden way, and I kept him for a moment under the window of
the turret-room.

I saw him glance up eagerly, almost hungrily, but the blinds were
partially down, and there was only a white curtain flapping in the summer
breeze.

But an unerring instinct told me that the sound of Max's voice would be a
strong cordial to the invalid, it was so long since she had heard or seen
him. As we sauntered under the oak-trees I knew Gladys would be watching
us.

On my return to the room I found her sitting bolt upright in her
arm-chair, grasping the arms; there were two spots of colour on her
cheeks; she looked nervous and excited.

'I saw you walking with him, Ursula; he looked up, but I am glad he could
not see me. Did--did he send me any message?' in a faltering voice.

'Yes, he sent you this.' And I placed the thick packet on her lap. 'Miss
Hamilton,'--yes, it was her own name: he had written it. I saw her look
at it, first incredulously, then with dawning hope in her eyes; but
before her trembling hands could break the old-fashioned seal with which
he had sealed it I had noiselessly left the room.