At last Jane turned and once more sat up. She had made up her mind that it was her duty--her duty, not only to Athena, but also to Hew Lingard,--to do this difficult, this repulsive thing which was being required of her. "I will speak to Richard to-morrow, Athena--but if he is shocked, if he is hurt by what I shall say to him--and I fear he will be both--you must not expect me ever to come back to Rede Place." Mrs. Maule gave a little cry. It was only now that she realised how doubtful she had been of success. She might have known Jane better. Jane had always been her one loyal friend. Athena was fond of the word "loyal." "Oh, Jane," she said humbly, "I--I don't know how to thank you. Will you mind very much?" "You mustn't be surprised if I fail," Jane said slowly. Athena again sank on to her knees. But all the humility had gone from the voice in which she uttered her words. "Oh, but you mustn't fail, Jane! It would kill me." She hesitated--"You will be very careful what you say to Richard? You will not--you need not mention----" Jane put out her hand with a quick gesture as if to ward off the name Athena was about to utter. "No, no," she cried vehemently, and it was the first time she had spoken with any strength in her tones. "You need not be afraid. Of course I shall mention no one--I think you can trust me, Athena." CHAPTER XVIII "Il y a des hommes qu'on trompe, et d'autres qu'on trahit, en accomplissant le même acte." Richard Maule heard the door of his bedroom close behind Jane Oglander. He had been so ailing the last day or two that he had been obliged to stay upstairs with Dick's companionship as his only solace, and his cousin had persuaded him to say good-bye to Jane there. She was only going as far as the Small Farm, to look after Mabel Digby who was ill. She would still be at Rede Place every day, but she was old-fashioned and punctilious; she did not wish to leave Mr. Maule's house without thanking him for his hospitality, not only to herself but to General Lingard, who had been asked there for her sake. She had come upstairs about six, already dressed in her outdoor things, and Dick had left her for a few moments with Richard in order that she might say good-bye. The few moments had prolonged themselves into half an hour, only half an hour, though the time had seemed a great deal longer to them both, and then she had left him with a gentle "Good-bye, Richard." As he stared at the door which she had closed quietly behind her, Richard Maule wondered whether he would ever see her again. Indeed, he was not sure that he wished ever to see Jane Oglander again. He had stood up to bid his guest good-bye, but, though he felt weak and a little dazed, he did not sit down again in his padded armchair near the fire. Instead, he went over to a glass case where were kept a number of fine old snuff-boxes collected by Theophilus Joy before there was a craze for such things.