"I don't find either of you particularly helpful," said Aunt Harriet again. "You are both very fortunate, I'm sure, not to have any spiritual difficulties. I often wish I had not such an active mind. I think I had better ask Mr. Black to come and see me about it. He is always kind. He tells me people constantly unburden themselves to him." "That is an excellent idea," said Aunt Maria promptly, with a total lack of consideration for Mr. Black, who perhaps, however, deserved his fate for putting his lips to his own trumpet. "He has studied these subjects more than Annette and I have done. Ask him to luncheon to-morrow." Aunt Harriet, somewhat mollified, settled herself among her cushions, and withdrew her teeth as a preliminary to her daily siesta. Aunt Maria, who had been bolt upright at her desk since half-past nine, took off her spectacles and closed her eyes. A carriage was heard to rumble into the courtyard. "Fly, my dear, fly," said Aunt Harriet, "catch Hodgkins and tell her we are not at home. I'm not equal to seeing anyone till four o'clock. I should have thought all the neighbourhood must have realized that by now. Save me, Annette." Annette hurried into the house, and then through a side window suddenly caught sight of Mrs. Stoddart's long grim face under a parasol, and ran out to her and dragged her out of the carriage. "I thought you had gone," she said, holding her tightly by her mantilla, as if Mrs. Stoddart might elude her even now. The elder woman looked at Annette's drawn face and thrust out her under lip. She had feared there would be trouble when Annette told Roger of her past, and had asked Mr. Stirling to let her stay on at Noyes a few days longer. As she sat by Annette in the parlour at Red Riff she saw that trouble had indeed come. "You have told your Roger," she said laconically, looking at the girl with anger and respect. "I don't need to ask how he has taken it." Annette recounted what had happened, and once again Mrs. Stoddart experienced a shock. She had come prepared to hear that Roger had withdrawn the light of his countenance from Annette, and to offer stern consolation. But the complication caused by Annette having informed Roger of the existence of the will, and the fact that she had witnessed it, overwhelmed her. A swift spasm passed over her face. "This is the first I've heard of you witnessing it," she said, sitting very bolt upright on the sofa. Annette owned she had entirely forgotten that she had done so until Roger had told her no will was forthcoming. "Then it all came back to me," she said. "It's not to be wondered at that you did not remember, considering you became unconscious with brain fever a few hours later," said Mrs. Stoddart in a perfectly level voice. And then, without any warning, she began to cry. Annette gazed at her thunderstruck. She had never seen her cry before. What that able woman did, she did thoroughly.