All the caressing glow died from Athena's face; it became suddenly watchful, wary. Mr. Maule went on, "Bayworth Kaye, it seems, is lying very ill at Aden." Mrs. Maule gave a slight sigh of relief. That was not what she had thought, with a sudden overwhelming fear, to hear Richard say. "The Kayes are thinking of going out to him, and they thought that I should be able to tell them something about the place--how to get there, and so on. But I advised them to wait a day or two for further news. "I heard about Bayworth Kaye's illness some days ago," said Wantele slowly. "But I forgot to tell you. I did, however, enquire about him yesterday. They seemed to know very little then----" * * * * * "I have been longing, longing, _longing_ to see you, Jane! Now, at last we can have a talk----" Putting both her hands on Jane's unresisting shoulders, Mrs. Maule gently pushed her friend down into a low chair, and then knelt down by her. They were in Jane's bedroom, and it still wanted three-quarters of an hour to dinner. Jane's eyes filled with happy tears. She was moved to the heart. How good they all were to her! She could still feel the clinging, the convulsive, grasp of Lingard's hand. She had not seen him alone, even for a moment, but now, at last, they were under the same roof, and each of his letters from Rede Place had been a cry of longing for her. "We ought not to have gone to the Paches'," cried Athena remorsefully. "But honestly it never occurred to me that you would come till the evening train, Jane." Jane laughed through her tears. "I'm very glad you went! I enjoyed my quiet day here. And oh I am so glad to see you, Athena! I was afraid that you might be away." "Do you really think I should leave Rede Place--now?" Athena looked searchingly into Jane's face. "I know we are none of us conventional, but still the proprieties have to be respected--sometimes!" Jane reddened uncomfortably. She had not thought of it in that way. She and Hew had been so happy together alone in London. But no doubt Athena was right. Athena rose slowly, gracefully, from her knees, and stood looking down at her friend with a rather inscrutable smile. Jane moved uneasily, she felt as if the other woman was gently, remorselessly stripping her soul of its wrappings.... "You look just the same," said Mrs. Maule, still smiling that probing, mysterious smile, "just as much a white and grey nun as you did before, Jane. But I think this is the first time I ever saw you blush. Go on blushing, dear--it makes you look quite pretty and worldly!" Jane flinched beneath the intent questioning gaze. She felt suddenly defenceless against a form of attack she had not expected from her friend. She could not bear the lightest touch of raillery, still less any laughing comment, on what was so deep and sacred a thing to herself as her relation to Lingard. She got up, walked over to a window, and pulled back the curtain.