bending over the stove. Wisps
of her scant, whitening hair escaped from the ridiculous, tightly drawn
knot at the back of her head; in the light of the flickering gas-jet
she looked so old and worn that a sudden pity smote Janet and made her
dumb--pity for her mother, pity for herself, pity for Lise; pity that
lent a staggering insight into life itself. Hannah had once been young,
desirable, perhaps, swayed by those forces which had swayed her. Janet
wondered why she had never guessed this before, and why she had guessed
it now. But it was Hannah who, looking up and catching sight of Janet's
face, was quick to divine the presage in it and gave voice to the
foreboding that had weighed on her for many weeks.

"Where's Lise?"

And Janet could not answer. She shook her head. Hannah dropped the fork,
the handle of the frying pan and crossed the room swiftly, seizing Janet
by the shoulders.

"Is she gone? I knew it, I felt it all along. I thought she'd done
something she was afraid to tell about--I tried to ask her, but I
couldn't--I couldn't! And now she's gone. Oh, my God, I'll never forgive
myself!"

The unaccustomed sight of her mother's grief was terrible. For an
instant only she clung to Janet, then becoming mute, she sat down in the
kitchen chair and stared with dry, unseeing eyes at the wall. Her face
twitched. Janet could not bear to look at it, to see the torture in her
mother's eyes. She, Janet, seemed suddenly to have grown old herself,
to have lived through ages of misery and tragedy.... She was aware of
a pungent odour, went to the stove, picked up the fork, and turned the
steak. Now and then she glanced at Hannah. Grief seemed to have frozen
her. Then, from the dining-room she heard footsteps, and Edward stood in
the doorway.

"Well, what's the matter with breakfast?" he asked. From where he stood
he could not see Hannah's face, but gradually his eyes were drawn to her
figure. His intuition was not quick, and some moments passed before the
rigidity of the pose impressed itself upon him.

"Is mother sick?" he asked falteringly.

Janet went to him. But it was Hannah who spoke.

"Lise has gone," she said.

"Lise--gone," Edward repeated. "Gone where?"

"She's run away--she's disgraced us," Hannah replied, in a monotonous,
dulled voice.

Edward did not seem to understand, and presently Janet felt impelled to
break the silence.

"She didn't come home last night, father."

"Didn't come home? Mebbe s