"Mr Thurston," said Roma, when, for a moment, they were alone, just as he was leaving, "Eugenia asked me to beg you to forgive her not coming down again, and she told me too, to thank you `very, very much.' And will you add to your kindness by writing to her to-morrow, and saying exactly how Mr Laurence is, and how he bore the disappointment." "Certainly I will," said Gerald. "I will write to-night, if the post is not gone. Our post is late." "And," added Roma, hesitatingly, "you will prevent their thinking it her fault. I mean, you will prevent their thinking her indifferent or careless, without, of course, blaming any one else, if you can help it." She grew a little confused. "It is not a case in which any one can interfere, but oh, I am so sorry for her!" she broke out. Mr Thurston's eyes looked the sympathy he felt, but he did not say much. "I think you may trust me," he said at last. "I will try to explain it as she--and you--would like. And after all," he added, by way of consolation, as he shook hands, "perhaps we are rather fanciful and exaggerated. I could not help thinking so when Captain Chancellor was speaking." It was nearly time for Roma herself to go. She went up again to Eugenia. She found her standing by the window, which overlooked the drive, watching Gerald's fly as it disappeared. "Did he promise to write?" she asked as Roma came in. "Yes, to-morrow, certainly--possibly to-night." "Did you say anything more to him, Roma? Did you ask him to tell them how I _longed_ to go--how it was not my fault?" "Yes--at least, I told him how earnestly you wished to go, but that it could not be helped. It would not have done to have let them think there had been any discussion about it, would it? And perhaps Beauchamp is wisest. I blame myself for having seemed to take your going for granted, at first." "You need not. You have been very good to me," said Eugenia. And then the two kissed each other, a rare demonstration of affection for Roma. She offered to defer her journey to Deepthorne, to stay at Halswood as long as Eugenia liked. Beauchamp's wife thanked her, but said, "No, any `to-do' would run the risk of annoying him," and Roma, knowing this to be true, and not a little uncertain besides what place she at present held in the good graces of the master of the house, did not persist. So she drove away to Stebbing, and Captain Chancellor in due time departed to his dinner-party at Sir Bernard Vaughan's, and Eugenia was left alone. Afterwards, Roma wished that she had stayed. VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FIVE. THE LAST STRAW. Oh Lord, what is thys worldys blysse, That changeth as the mone! My somer's day in lusty May Is derked before the none. _The Not-Browne Mayd_.