cing before her eyes. When she reached her little room under the
overhanging eaves she had, perforce, to stand still a moment and steady
herself, for the floor was rocking under her feet. The message had
come--at last, when all hope seemed dead--Francis wanted her.

In a moment she was calm again, and taking up a motor-cap from the bed
where she had flung it earlier in the day, she crammed it on her head
with her usual disregard of appearance, and dragged on the coat which
lay beside it.

She ran to the door, but as she reached it she stopped. Retracing her
steps to the dressing-table she scanned herself closely in the glass.
An unwonted colour flushed her sallow cheeks as she straightened the
cap and replaced some strands of hair which straggled under it. Poor
Isabella, she was perhaps more of a woman than she knew.

But she did not linger, and in another minute she was seated beside
Philippa, hastening in answer to the summons for which she had waited
so long. Suddenly a thought struck her, and she asked quickly--

"He is not ill?"

"He is not ill, but I think that something is troubling him. We were
in the village, and I left him for a few minutes while I went into the
post-office. When I came out he asked to go straight home, and when we
got to the house he asked me to fetch you. Oh, Isabella, I do not know
what I fear, but he spoke so--differently--it did not seem like Francis
speaking. I only hope he has not remembered--anything that will pain
him. What could have changed him so quickly? He could not have met
any one he knew--there was no one about--and besides, there is no one."

"Tell me just what he said."

Philippa did so, and Isabella was silent for a while, and her face was
very grave. Then she said gruffly, "Well, we've just got to help him,
whatever the trouble is."

They did not speak again, and when they arrived at the High House
Philippa led the way quickly to Francis' sitting-room, and was about to
enter when she stopped and motioned to Isabella to precede her.

He was standing just as he had stood once before, and he now came
forward with just the same air of eagerness he had shown then, and
Philippa's thoughts flew back to that first evening which had seen the
beginning of it all for her; but his expression was different, for
where joy had been so clearly visible then, intense anxiety and even
fear were now written upon his face.

Isabella held out her hand. "Francis!" she sai