The rain was over on Wednesday morning, but the day was gray and chill and the crisping turf and the hardening road indicated a coming frost. There was nothing, however, to prevent the contemplated visit to Burrell Court, and a painful momentary shadow flitted over John's face when Denas came to breakfast in her new ruby-coloured merino dress. She was so pretty, so full of the importance of her trip, so affectionate, that he could not say a word to dash her spirits or warn her carelessness, and yet he had a quick spasm of terror about the danger she was going so gayly into. Of what use, alas! are our premonitions if they do not bring with them the inexorable moral courage necessary to enforce their warnings? Denas had been accustomed to go to Elizabeth's very early in the morning, and it did not come into her mind to make any change in this respect because of Elizabeth's marriage. So after she had taken her breakfast she put on her hat and ulster and her warm wool gloves and took the cliff road. John, with his pipe in his mouth, leaned against the door lintel and watched her. Joan stood by his side for a moment, following with her eyes the graceful figure of her child, but she quickly went back to her work. John's work was over for the day; he had come in on the dawn tide with a good take. So he stood at the door, in spite of the frosty air, and watched his little maid climb the hilly road with the elastic step and untiring breath of happy youth. It was then only eight o'clock. No one at her home had thought the hour too early. But when she reached Burrell Court Elizabeth had not come downstairs and breakfast was not yet served. She was much annoyed and embarrassed by the attitude of the servants. She had no visiting-card, and the footman declined to disturb Mrs. Burrell at her toilet. "Miss could wait," he said with an air of familiarity which greatly offended Denas. For she considered herself, as the child of a fisherman owning his own cottage and boat and lord of all the leagues of ocean where he chose to cast his nets, immeasurably the superior of any servant, no matter how fine his livery might be. She sat down in the small reception-room into which she had been shown and waited. She heard Elizabeth and her husband go through the hall together, and the pleasant odours of coffee and broiled meats certified to the serving of breakfast. But no one came near her. As the minutes slipped away her wonder became anger; and she was resolving to leave the inhospitable house when she heard Roland's step. He came slowly down the polished oak stairs, went to the front door, opened it and looked out into the frosty day; then turning rapidly in from the cold, he went whistling softly through the hall to the breakfast-room. Just as he entered the footman was saying: "A young person, ma'am. She had no card, and when I asked her name she only looked at me, ma'am." "Where did you put her?" asked Elizabeth. "In the small reception-room."