"Well, my dear, what else is there to say? I can't say I should be sorry if Boringdon were to burn his wings a bit! I hate your fellow who is always trying to set the world straight. To take his information from Miss Vipen too--!" The General had also heard of Oliver's renewed interest in the Priory, and his wife's talk had not surprised him quite as much as she, in the innocence of her heart, expected it to do. "Berwick, from what you tell me, and from what I hear," he added in a low voice, "knows what he's after, and that's more than your friend Boringdon seems to do! I hate a man who goes dangling after a woman for her good; that's what he told you, I take it?" "Well, something rather like it; but I think better of him than you do, Tom." "They generally get caught at last." General Kemp gave a quick, short sigh: "and then comes--unless the chap's as clever as Boringdon doubtless means to be--pretty heavy punishment, eh, Mary?" And he went off back into his dressing-room, and Mrs. Kemp, turning on her side, wet her pillow with sudden bitter tears. * * * * * Some days later Lucy and her mother called at the Priory, only to be informed that Mrs. Rebell was at Fletchings, staying there as the guest of Lord Bosworth and Miss Berwick till the following Saturday. This then,--so thought Mrs. Kemp with a quick revulsion of feeling,--was why Boringdon now found time hang so heavy on his hands, and why he had been, of late, so often at the Grange. Life, even at Chancton, was full of inexplicable cross currents,--of deep pools and eddies more likely to bring shipwreck than safe haven to the creature whom she loved so dearly, and for whom she felt that responsibility which only mothers know. CHAPTER XV. "But as we walked we turned aside Into a narrow tortuous lane Where baffling paths the roads divide And jealous brambles prick to pain: Then first I saw, with quick surprise, The strange new look in friendship's eyes. "And now, in one stupendous dream, We wander through the purple glades, Which love has tinted with the gleam Of wonderful, enchanting shades: But I--would give it all away For those dear hours of friendship's day." ELEANOR ESHER. Mrs. Rebell had now been at Fletchings five days. It was Saturday night--in three days more she would be back at Chancton.