ger. She did not ask
herself, was it reasonable? Had not the man some right to defend
himself, to explain? If he had wanted to explain, he had had ample
opportunity, and he had not taken advantage of it. No, it was a joke--a
cruel, cowardly joke at her expense.

Poor and alone in the world, with none to defend her, she had been
subjected to the odious attentions of Slotman. She was ready to regard
all men as creatures of the same type. She had allowed poverty to narrow
her views and warp her mind, and now--

"I beg your pardon, ma'am--"

She was walking along the road to the station. She turned, a man had
pulled up in a small car; he touched his hat.

"My lady sent me after you, Mrs. Alston."

Joan gripped her hands tightly. She looked with blazing eyes at the
man--"Mrs. Alston..." Even the servant!

"My lady begs that you will return with me. She would be very much
hurt, ma'am, if you left the house like this, her ladyship begs me to
say."

"Who was your message for?"

"For you, ma'am, of course," said the man.

"Ma'am--Mrs. Alston!" So this joke had been passed on even to the
servants, and now she was asked to return.

"Go back and tell Lady Linden that I do not understand her message in
the least. Kindly say that the person you overtook on the road was Miss
Joan Meredyth, who is taking the next train to London." She bent her
head, turned her back on him, and made her way on to the station.

Half an hour later she was leaning back wearily on the dusty seat of a
third-class railway carriage, on her way back to the London she hated.
Now she was going back again, because she had nowhere else to go. As she
sat there with closed eyes, and the tears on her cheeks, she counted up
her resources. They were so small, so slender, yet she had been so
careful. And now this useless journey had eaten deeply into the little
store.

She had no more than enough to keep her for another week, one more week,
and then.... She shivered at the thought of the destitution that was
before her.

Dinner at the boarding-house was over when she returned, but its
unsavoury and peculiar smell still pervaded the place.

"Why, Miss Meredyth, I thought you were away for the week-end, at
least," Mrs. Wenham said. "I suppose you won't want any dinner?"

"No," Joan said. "I shall not want anything. I--I--" She paused. "I was
obliged to come back, after all. Perhaps you could let me have a cup of
tea in my room, Mrs. Wenham?"

"Well, i