"I shan't think of Vernon or his sister. I shall wipe them off my mind. I shall only dream and think of that peaceful Cornish valley by the sea, and of Cousin Thor moving about in it trying to shoulder all the people's burdens. He is shouldering mine, and I will leave him to do it. He never fails me." Sleep came to her very soon in spite of aching wrist and limbs. She met Thorold at the breakfast table the next morning looking much more like herself. And she had recovered her spirits. Meeting his intent gaze she asked him lightly: "Am I looking an awful guy? I feel as if I have been in a football scrimmage." "You are very thin," said Thorold gravely. "I suppose it is the result of the life you have been leading—late hours and excitement." "I have only had six weeks of it, barely that." "It's long enough to have brought lines to your face which were not there before." "You're not complimentary. You never are to me. But I have got nervy and cross in London. I always hated towns. I told you so when you came and took Waddy and me away from it. The air is used up, and people get in one's way, and are nasty, and then that rouses nastiness in me." "Well, now we must talk matters over. You have been too hasty and impetuous in running away like this! Do you want to end all this musical life? Will you be content to settle down quietly away from it all?" "I never want to get away from music. I could not be happy without a piano or organ, but I never want to see Mr. Buchan again, never. He thinks of nobody but himself, and thinks he can treat me anyhow!" Gentian's cheeks grew hot and red as she thought of her last interview with Vernon, and of his letter following it. "I don't know where I am to live," she went on with a plaintive tone in her voice. "I could never go back to the Miss Buchans. Now I see that I treated them badly, for they have been very kind to me. But Mr. Buchan made me write to them and definitely refuse to go back to them. And I can't stay very long with Mrs. Wharnecliffe." "We'll talk over plans with her," said Thorold hastily. "I think you had better write yourself to both Mr. Buchan and his sister. They have been kind to you. Don't shirk it. You are not a child, and must be able to have the courage of your convictions." Gentian looked at him with laughter in her eyes. "You are just the same as ever. Very kind when I am in trouble, but so quick to dictate to me and correct my faults. When I sweep people out of my life, I do it with one good swish of the broom, and never give my reasons. Why should I?" "I think it would be more courteous and more straightforward if you were to do so." "What! To tell Mrs. St. Lucas that her brother is detestable to me!" "No, that is not necessary." Gentian jumped up from the breakfast table. "I'll write with the greatest pleasure. No one can say that I am afraid of them."