After Dennis had left her this night she had sat thinking over the story she had heard; as she pondered it she felt she had drawn perceptibly nearer to comprehension of Camilla Lancing and her complex character, and the suggestion that it was in her power to be helpful and comforting to the children's mother had made her heart thrill. Haverford's cold words of annoyance came most inopportunely. It was only natural, perhaps, that she should misunderstand him. "Perhaps he thinks that I asked for this work," she said to herself, and she flushed hotly with humiliation as the thought came. "I wish I had not gone to him! And yet," was her next quick thought, "if I had not gone I should not be here. Well! when I have paid him back the money he lent me there will be no need to trouble about him any more." She laughed a little shortly to herself. "If I had refused this work that would have been wrong!" It was growing late, so she turned the light low, and then went to bed. There she lay thinking the matter over and over again. "I think I will send this letter on to Mrs. Brenton," she decided, "and I will ask her to advise me what I ought to do." As the heat died out of her feeling and she grew calmer her mood changed a little. She began to judge Haverford less sharply. "Certainly he was kind to me in his own peculiar way, and there was no need really for him to have done anything at all. I suppose I ought to have consulted him!" She sighed several times. "I knew it was all too pleasant to last," she said wearily, "I knew something disagreeable would happen." It was very strange, but a decided feeling of regret came in place of annoyance the more she thought over the situation. She had grown accustomed to hear Rupert Haverford discussed and denounced in the bitterest fashion by his mother. Just for this very reason she had determined that it was probable that this man would be rich in those qualities that were so lacking in his mother. Indeed, it was the conviction that he was just and honest and straightforward that had driven her towards him when she had found herself so greatly in need of help. And he had not belied this belief in him. When he had convinced himself that she had an undoubted claim on his mother, he had without hesitation stepped into the breach and taken upon himself the right to protect and to provide for her. And viewing the matter in this quiet, practical way, it did not take Caroline very long to assure herself that she had not done exactly what she ought to have done. "I shall write to him to-morrow, and I shall try and let him feel that I am sorry. Very probably he won't trouble himself any more about the matter; still, I shall write all the same." And soothed by this determination, Caroline nestled down into the pillows and was soon asleep. CHAPTER VIII Camilla came home very late that night.