s in this instance
small consolation. She saw clearly enough that the apprehensions
expressed by Mr. Orcutt, whom he had since denounced as an idiotic old
woman, had made an impression, aroused in him the ever-abiding concern
for the mill which was his life's passion and which had been but
temporarily displaced by his infatuation with her. That other passion
was paramount. What was she beside it? Would he hesitate for a moment to
sacrifice her if it came to a choice between them? The tempestuousness
of these thoughts, when they took possession of her, hinting as they
did of possibilities in her nature hitherto unguessed and unrevealed,
astonished and frightened her; she sought to thrust them away, to
reassure herself that his concern for the successful delivery of the
Bradlaugh order was natural. During the morning, in the intervals
between interviews with the superintendents, he was self-absorbed,
and she found herself inconsistently resenting the absence of those
expressions of endearment--the glances and stolen caresses--for
indulgence in which she had hitherto rebuked him: and though pride came
to her rescue, fuel was added to her feeling by the fact that he did not
seem to notice her coolness. Since he failed to appear after lunch, she
knew he must be investigating the suspicions Orcutt had voiced; but at
six o'clock, when he had not returned, she closed up her desk and left
the office. An odour of cheap perfume pervading the corridor made her
aware of the presence of Miss Lottie Myers.

"Oh, it's you!" said that young woman, looking up from the landing of
the stairs. "I might have known it you never make a get-away until after
six, do you?"

"Oh, sometimes," said Janet.

"I stayed as a special favour to-night," Miss Myers declared. "But I'm
not so stuck on my job that I can't tear myself away from it."

"I don't suppose you are," said Janet.

For a moment Miss Myers looked as if she was about to be still more
impudent, but her eye met Janet's, and wavered. They crossed the bridge
in silence. "Well, ta-ta," she said. "If you like it, it's up to you.
Five o'clock for mine,"--and walked away, up the canal, swinging her
hips defiantly. And Janet, gazing after her, grew hot with indignation
and apprehension. Her relations with Ditmar were suspected, after all,
made the subject of the kind of comment indulged in, sotto voce, by
Lottie Myers and her friends at the luncheon hour. She felt a mad,
primitive desire to