nt. For the moment, she was no longer
Cicely Farrell, extravagantly dressed, but the shrewd hospital worker,
who although she would accept no responsibility that fettered her goings
and comings beyond a certain point, was yet, as he well knew,
invaluable, as a force in the background, to both the nursing and
medical staff of Carton.

'Well, what did Seaton say?'

'That you would have another bad relapse, if you attempted yet to go to
work.'

'I shall risk it.'

'That's so like you. You never take anyone's advice.'

'On the contrary, I am the meekest and most docile of men.' She shrugged
her shoulders.

'You were docile, I suppose, when Seaton begged you not to go off to the
Rectory, and give yourself all that extra walking backwards and forwards
to the hospital every day?'

'I wanted a change of scene. I like the old Rector--I even like family
prayers.'

'I am sure everything--and _everybody_--is perfect at the Rectory!'

'No--not perfect--but peaceable.'

He looked at her smiling. His grey eyes, under their strong black brows,
challenged her. She perceived in them a whole swarm of unspoken
charges. Her own colour rose.

'So peace is what you want?'

'Peace--and a little sympathy.'

'And we give you neither?'

He hesitated.

'Willy never fails one.'

'So it's my crimes that are driving you away? It's all to be laid on my
shoulders?'

He laughed--uncertainly.

'Don't you believe me when I say I want to do some work?'

'Not much. So I have offended you?'

His look changed, became grave--touched with compunction.

'Miss Farrell, I oughtn't to have been talking like this. You and Willy
have been awfully good to me.'

'And then you call me "Miss Farrell"!' she cried, passionately--'when
you know very well that you've called me Cicely for years.'

'Hush!' said Marsworth suddenly, 'what was that?'

He turned back towards Rydal. On the shore path, midway between them and
the little bay at the eastern end of the lake, where Farrell and Nelly
Sarratt had been sitting, were Hester Martin and Bridget. They too had
turned round, arrested in their walk. Beyond them, at the edge of the
water, Farrell could be seen beckoning. And a little way behind him on
the slope stood a boy with a bicycle.

'He is calling us,' said Marsworth, and began to run.

Hester Martin was already running--Bridget too.

But Hester and Marsworth outstripped the rest. Farrell came to meet
them.

'Hester, for God's sake, g