"Precisely," said Mr. Paulton. "Can they be avoided at all?--and if so, how?" "Well, as you offered the hospitality of your roof to Mrs. Davenport, and she has accepted it, you can't say to her, or even show to her, that you wish her to go----" "Quite impossible," interrupted Alfred. "But might I not say--that supposing she will see me again--a thing I doubt very much--it would be most desirable for her to move into town, so that she might be near me and I near her?" "That would not be a bad plan," said Mr. Paulton, looking at his son and O'Brien for confirmation. "What do you think, boys?" "I don't see what better can be done," said O'Brien, answering for the two. He answered quickly, for he was half afraid that Alfred had not even yet made up his mind as to the desirability of her leaving the house. "The great difficulty is that time is short, and I don't think I could intrude upon her again to-day. We had quite a scene upstairs. Judging from the state of agitation in which she left me, I should imagine she will not see any one on business during the remainder of the day." At that moment the door of the library opened and Mrs. Davenport stepped into the room. She was in her walking dress. All the men rose and stood looking at her silently. Mr. Paulton was the first to recover his presence of mind, and offered her a chair. She came over quietly to where he stood, bowing slightly as she moved. "I hope I do not disturb you, gentlemen," she said, in a gentle voice and with a wan smile. "Not in the least," said Mr. Paulton. "Will you not take a chair?" "Thank you, no. I am going out." "Going out! May not some one go for you--one of my daughters or one of the servants?" "You are very good; but I must go myself. I have just been explaining to Mrs. Paulton. I have come, Mr. Paulton, to thank you for your great kindness to me, a complete stranger. Believe me, I shall never forget it--never as long as I live. If a friend in need is a friend indeed, you have been a great friend; for I never wanted a friend more than I did this morning. I have come to thank you and to say good-bye." "Good-bye!" he cried in astonishment. "Why should you leave us?" His surprise was not feigned. "Since you were kind enough to give me shelter, a serious difference has arisen in my position. When I came into your house I believed that there would be no unusual trouble about my poor husband's death. Now I understand in that I was mistaken. It would be monstrous on my part to involve you, Mr. Paulton, in any way in this unpleasantness, and it will be best for me to be alone." She spoke with perfect composure, and Pringle could scarcely believe that this calm, collected woman, with the wan smile and resigned air, was the one who, a little while ago, had spoken impassioned words of despair.