Before the hostile eyes (she included Andy's among them) Isobel was herself again--calm, haughty, unabashed, her feelings under full control. There were no signs of the tempest she had passed through; she was again the Miss Vintry who had given lessons in courage and the other manly virtues. Andy was unfeignedly glad that this was her condition; his practical equipment included small aptitude for dealing with hysterics. For the better part of the way to the station she said nothing. At last she looked across at Andy, who sat opposite to her, and remarked, "Well, Mr. Hayes, you saw the beginning; now you see the end." "Since it has happened, I can only hope the end will be happy--for you and for him." "I'm getting what I wanted. If you want a thing and get it, you can hardly complain, whatever happens." "That sounds very reasonable, but--" "The best thing to hope about reason is to hope you won't need it? Yes!" It seemed that the news had not yet spread so far afield as to reach the station. The old stationmaster was friendly and loquacious. "Quite a break-up of you all to-day, sir," he said. "Mr. 'Arry gone by the first train, the stout gentleman by the next, now Miss Vintry, and a carriage engaged for Miss Flower's party and Mr. Foot this afternoon! A real break-up, I call it!" "That's about what it comes to, Mr. Parsons," said Andy, as he handed Isobel into the train. "Well, 'olidays must 'ave an end. A pleasant journey and a safe return, miss." Isobel smiled at Andy. "You'd stop at the first part of the wish, Mr. Hayes?" Andy put out his hand to her. With the slightest air of surprise she took it. "We must make the best of it. Do what you can for him." "I'll do all he'll let me." Her eyes met his; she smiled. "I know all that as well as you do. Surely I, if anybody, ought to know it?" It seemed to Andy as if that were what her eyes and her smile said. "I want you to deliver one message for me," she went on. "Don't be alarmed, I'm not daring to send a message to anybody who belongs to Meriton. But when you next see Miss Dutton, will you tell her I shan't forget her kindness? I've already thanked Miss Flower for the use of her sitting-room. Ah, we're moving! Good-bye!" She was smiling as she went. Andy was smiling too; the degree of her gratitude to Sally Dutton and to the Nun respectively had been admirably defined. The fire of Wellgood's wrath was still smouldering hotly, ready to break out at any moment if the slightest breath of passion fanned it. He received Andy civilly enough, but at the first hint that he came in some sort as an ambassador from Harry's father, his back stiffened. His position was perfectly clear, and seemed unalterable. So far as it lay in his power he would banish Harry Belfield from Meriton and put an end to any career he might have there. He repeated to Andy more calmly, but not less forcibly, what he had shouted in his fury the evening before.