ooms or beyond it,
was no doubt the one Gwen had heard of. He examined her slightly, seemed
satisfied, and disappeared as he had come. The cat chose the most
comfortable corner by the fire, and went to sleep in it without
hesitation. The fire crackled with new dry wood, and exploded a chance
wet billet into jets of steam, under a kettle whose lid was tremulous
from intermittent stress below.

Otherwise, nothing interfered with the two voices in the room beyond;
the mother's, weak with age, but cheerful enough, no unhappy sound about
it; the daughter's, cheerful, robust, and musical, rallying and
encouraging her as a child, perhaps about some dress obstacle or
mystery. The effect on Gwen of listening to them was painful. To hear
them, knowing the truth, made that knowledge almost unendurable. Could
she possess her soul in peace until what she supposed to be the old
lady's toilette was complete?

The question was decided by the dog, who was applying for admission at
the door beyond the passage, somewhat diffidently and cautiously. Gwen
could just see him, exploring along the door-crack with his nose.
Presently, remaining unnoticed from within, he made his voice
audible--barely audible, not to create alarm needlessly. It was only to
oblige; he had no misgivings about the visitor.

Then Gwen, conceiving that a change in the voices implied that his
application had been heard, helped the applicant, by a word or two to
identify herself; adding that she was in no hurry, and would wait. Then
followed more change in the voices; the mother's exclamation of
pleasure; the daughter's recognition of her visitor's dues of courtesy
and deference, and their claim for a prompt discharge. Then an opened
door, and Widow Thrale herself, not too much overpowered by her
obligations to leave the dog's explanations and apologies
unacknowledged. The utter unconsciousness this showed of the thing that
was to come almost made Gwen feel that the strain on her powers of
self-control might become greater than she could bear, and that she
might break out with some premature disclosure which would only seem
sheer madness to her unprepared hearer.

She could hold out a little yet, though.... Well!--she had got to manage
it, by hook or by crook. So--courage! Five minutes of normal
_causeries_, mere currencies of speech, and then the match to the train!

She evolved, with some difficulty, the manner which would be correct in
their relative positions;