"Oh, very well. Have it your own way, Sir! I'll come--I'll come--fast enough," and the speaker, with a curious half-mocking look at Lathrop, flounced back into the cottage, and shut the door. They waited. There were sounds of lowered voices, and crying children. Then Miss Daunt emerged defiantly, and they all three walked back to Monk Lawrence. The keeper's niece unlocked the door leading to Daunt's rooms. But she stood sulkily in the entry. "Now I hope you're satisfied, Sir. I don't know, I'm sure, why you should come meddling in other people's affairs. And I daresay you'll say something against me to my uncle!" "Well, anyway, you keep watch!" was the stern reply. "I take my rounds often this way, as your Uncle knows. I daresay I shall be by here again tonight. Can the children find their way home alone?" "Well, they're not idiots, Sir! Good-night to you. I've got to get supper." And brusquely shutting the door in their faces, she went inside. They perceived immediately afterwards that she had lit a light in the kitchen. "Well, so far, all right," said Lathrop, as he and Delia withdrew. "But the whole thing's rather--queer. You know that old woman, Mrs. Cresson, is not all there, and quite helpless?" He pondered it as they walked back through the wood, his eyes on the ground. Delia shared his undefined anxiety. She suggested that he should go back to the house in an hour or so, to see if Daunt had returned, and complain of his niece's breach of rules. Lathrop agreed. "How do we know who or what that girl is?"--he said slowly--"that she mayn't have been got hold of?" The same terror grew in Delia. She walked on beside him absorbed in speculation and discussion, till, without noticing, she had reached the farther gate of the wood-walk. Outside the gate, ran the Wanchester road, climbing the down, amid the woods. To reach the field path leading to the Abbey, Delia must cross it. She and Lathrop emerged from the wood still talking in low voices, and stood beside the gate. A small car, with one man driving it, was descending the long hill. But Delia had her back to it. It came nearer. She turned, and saw Winnington approaching her--saw the look on his face. For a moment she wavered. Then with a bow and a hasty "Good Evening," she left Lathrop, and stepped into the road, holding up her hand to stop the car. "How lucky!" she said, clearly, and gaily,--"just as it's going to rain! Will you take me home?" Winnington, without a word, made room for her beside him. The two men exchanged a slight greeting--and the car passed. Lathrop walked quickly back in the direction of Monk Lawrence. His vanity was hugely pleased.