She reached her own room as quickly as possible, and dropped upon the chair beside her dressing-table in a whirl of angry feeling. A small and heated face looked out upon her from the glass. But after the first instinctive moment she took no notice of it. With the mind's eye she still saw the figure she had just parted from, the noble poise of the head, thrown back on the broad shoulders, the black and greys of the hair, the clear penetrating glance--all the slight signs of age and austerity that had begun to filch away the Squire's youth. It was at least ten minutes before she could free herself enough from the unwelcome memories of her walk to find a vindictive pleasure in running hastily to look at her one white dress--all she had to wear at the Browhead dance. * * * * * On Thursday afternoon Helbeck was fishing in the park. The sea-trout were coming up, the day was soft, and he had done well. But just as the evening rise was beginning he put up his rod and went home. Father Leadham had taken his departure. Augustina, Miss Fountain, and he were again alone in the house. He went into his study, and left the door open, while he busied himself with some writing. Presently Augustina put her head in. She looked dishevelled, and rather pinker than usual, as always happened when there was the smallest disturbance of her routine. "Laura has just gone up to dress, Alan. Is it fine?" "There is no rain," he said, without turning his head. "Don't shut the door, please. This fire is oppressive." She went away, and he wrote on a little while--then listened. He heard hurrying feet and movements overhead, and presently a door opened hastily, and a voice exclaimed, "Just two or three, you know, Ellen--from that corner under the kitchen-window! Run, there's a good girl!" And there was a clattering noise as Ellen ran down the front stairs, and then flew along the corridor to the garden-door. In a minute she was back again, and as she passed his room Helbeck saw that she was carrying a bunch of white narcissus. Then more sounds of laughter and chatter overhead. At last Augustina hurried down and looked in upon him again, flurried and smiling. "Alan, you really must see her. She looks so pretty." "I am afraid I'm busy," he said, still writing. And she retired disappointed, careful, however, to follow his wishes about the door. "Augustina, hold Bruno!" cried a light voice suddenly. "If he jumps on me I'm done for!"