into her voice, and before she could stop herself she said, 'And that
little girl is the heiress of Appleton Park.'

Mrs Shepherd's face changed expression.

'You are mistaken, Miss Shepherd,' she said; 'but if I ever meet your
brother I will tell him that you think my little girl like him.'

Mrs Shepherd pursued her way slowly across the park, her long weary
figure showing upon the sunset, her black dress trailing on the crisp
grass. Often she was obliged to pause; the emotion and exercise of the
day had brought back pain, and her whole body thrilled with it.
Since the birth of her child she had lived in pain. But as she leaned
against the white gate, and looked back on the beautiful park never
to be seen by her again, knowledge of her sacrifice quickened within
her--the house and the park, and the manner and speech of the young
girl, combined to help her to a full appreciation of all she had
surrendered. She regretted nothing. However mean and obscure her life
had been, it had contained at least one noble moment. Nellie pursued
the dragonflies; Mrs Shepherd followed slowly, feeling like a victor
in a great battle. She had not broken her trust; she had kept her
promise intact; she would return to London tomorrow or next day, or at
the end of the week, whenever the Major wished.

He was waiting for them at the corner of the lane, and Nellie was
already telling him all she thought of the house, the woods, the
flowers, and the lady who had sat down by Mother on the bench above
the river. The Major looked at his wife in doubt and fear; her smile,
however, reassured him. Soon after, Nellie fell asleep, and while
she dreamed of butterflies and flowers Mrs Shepherd told him what had
passed between her and his sister in the beechwood above the river.

'You see, what I told you was right. Your appearance has been
described to them; they suspect something, and will never cease
worrying until they have found out everything. I'm not a bit
surprised. Ethel always was the more cunning and the more spiteful of
the two.'

Mrs Shepherd did not tell him how nearly she had been betrayed into
confession. She felt that he would not understand her explanation of
the mood in which his sister had caught her. Men understand women so
little. To tell him would be merely to destroy his confidence in her.
As they drove through the twilight, with Nellie fast asleep between,
he spoke of her departure, which he had arranged for the end of the