she was moved to thankfulness.

The Danvers could only dimly realise how great her suffering had been
during the last two hours, ever since Geoffrey had returned from the
downs and in an awestruck tone, and with halting, stammering speech had
broken to them all the news of the catastrophe which had, so he then
thought, overtaken Margaret. Hilary had at once broken out into the noisy
grief and passionate self-reproaches which she had kept up without
intermission ever since, but Eleanor's agony of mind had lain too deep
for outward expression. She knew that if Margaret had really been killed,
she would never have been able to forgive herself. The awful thought that
it was she who was responsible for her death would never have left her,
and now that the strain of those terrible hours was over, Eleanor could
only look back upon the utter blackness of despair that had been hers
through every minute of them with a shudder.

Then Mrs. Danvers who had been upstairs with her two nieces, for Joan had
had an attack of crying only second in intensity to that to which Hilary
had given way, informed by Martin of the good news which Geoffrey had
brought, came down, followed by Nancy and Joan in their dressing-gowns,
to share in the general rejoicing, and presently Mr. Anstruther returned,
having been driven up in a motor by one of the doctors who had been at
the hospital.

And Mr. Anstruther's harshness and anger against his erring granddaughter
was now a thing of the past. Though he had given scarcely more outward
sign of his inward feelings than Eleanor, the tragic fate that he had
believed to have overtaken Margaret had so appalled and shaken him that
the escapade of which she had been guilty had sunk to but insignificant
proportions in his eyes, and had she only returned now he would have
uttered no word of blame to her.

But meanwhile she had not come back, and they were as far off as ever
from knowing what had become of her, although in the general relief and
gladness that for anything they knew to the contrary at least she was
still alive, they had temporarily lost sight of that fact.

It was Mr. Anstruther who reminded them of it by mentioning that the
doctor who had so kindly driven him up to The Cedars had taken him round
to the police station on the way, where he, Mr. Anstruther, had given the
sergeant on duty a brief description of his granddaughter. This was to be
immediately telephoned to all the policemen on their