, and she had the whole day before
her; so she retraced her steps to the road and walked briskly along.

As she did so her mind continued in the same train of thought with
which it had been previously occupied--Isabella and her connection with
Francis; and then, quite suddenly, a light broke upon her. The
explanation seemed so obvious that she could only marvel that she had
not thought of it at once. Little by little she recalled all the
evidence to strengthen her conclusion. Isabella's dear memory of the
past--the words lightly spoken by the person whose good opinion was
more to her than the whole world--her eager, questioning gaze as though
longing and yet not daring to frame a question--and, most certain proof
of all, the silence with regard to Francis.

If he had been to her no more than a valued friend she would surely
have spoken of him, just as she had spoken of Philippa's father. She
had loved Francis; and he?--well---- He had, it would seem, been fond
of her in a friendly, careless way. The sandy cat! Was it of his
welfare she was so anxious to hear? Was it the necessity of being
somewhere near him that had drawn her to take up her abode in this
lonely if lovely spot?

And yet surely she could have obtained news of him, thought the girl.
Isabella had said that she did not know either Major Heathcote or his
wife, but even so, Marion was no ogress. Why had not Isabella gone
boldly to the door and asked for tidings of him for the sake of old
friendship? It would have been a very simple course to take. Or there
was the doctor. Surely if Francis and the first Philippa had known him
so well, Isabella must have known him too.

Well, to-day, if she had the opportunity, she would break the
silence--she would speak of Francis and tell Isabella of his marvellous
recovery. And then she realised that her own position might be a
little difficult to explain. It would not be an easy story to tell to
this woman if she loved him; but if Philippa was correct in her
surmise, and she had now little doubt on that score, surely Isabella
had a right to know the truth.

How different things would have been if Francis had loved Isabella; for
most certainly she would never have been a fair-weather friend. But
first she must have proof, and that should not be hard to obtain.
There would be some sign when his name was spoken--some intonation in
the woman's voice, even if she did not speak openly, which would reveal
her