"We were all at him, all three of us!" She stretched out her hands suddenly. "Do try to understand that he had something to bear too. And that we had--thinking as we do about it. It was hard for other people besides you. Father's getting old, and Godfrey's all mother and I----" Winnie nodded her understanding of the broken sentence. "I haven't said a word against him or any of you. He had a right to do what he has done, though he's done it in a way I didn't think he'd choose." "He doesn't trust himself, and mother--oh!" Her forlorn murmuring ended hopelessly in nothing. "Mother! Yes! What a lot of things there are to think of! I had just made up my mind to take him right away from all of you, to take him abroad. I could have done it if I'd found him here. Perhaps I could do it still--I wonder?" Amy shivered uncomfortably under the thoughtful gaze of her companion's eyes. "I might write letters too--as you used to--and contrive secret meetings. He's said nothing about Miss Thurseley to me--I don't suppose he'd say anything about me to Miss Thurseley. But he'd meet me all the same, I think. That seems to be his way; only before your last visit I didn't know it." "Indeed he won't think of Mabel--not for a long while. He's so--so broken up." Winnie raised her brows slightly; she was beginning to form an opinion of her own about that--an opinion not likely to be too generous to Godfrey. Amy spoke with obvious effort, with an air of shame. "Mother begged and prayed me to--to try and persuade you----" She broke off again. "To let him alone? I suppose she would. She thinks I've done all the harm? As far as he's concerned, I suppose I have. If we'd gone about it in the ordinary way, he really needn't have suffered at all." Again came Amy's uncomfortable shiver; she was not at home with steady contemplation of the ways of the world; it had not come across her path any more than love-making had. "You can tell your mother that I'll let him alone. Then, I hope, she'll get better." "Oh, I don't understand you!" "No? Well, I didn't understand Godfrey. But in your case it doesn't matter. Why should you want to? You can all put me out of your thoughts from to-day." "I can't!" cried Amy; "I shall never be able to!" Suddenly she came over to Winnie, and, standing before her, rather awkwardly, burst into tears. "How can you be so hard?" she moaned. "Don't you see that I'm terribly unhappy for you? But it's hopeless to try to tell you. You're so--so hard. And I've got to go back home, where they'll be----" Winnie supplied the word--"Jubilant? Yes." She frowned. "You cry, and I don't--it is rather funny. I wonder if I shall cry when you've gone!" "Oh, do you love him, or don't you?"