She got up and walked on and on. It was about five o'clock now. As she walked, she thought how fortunate she was in Miss Townsend; what a nice girl she was, what a good friend to her and the children. She had a sort of intuition that made her always have the right word, the right manner. She had seemed a little odd lately, but she was quite pleased to come with them to the country. What made her think of Miss Townsend? Some way off was a girl, with her back to Edith, walking with a man. Her figure was like Miss Townsend's, and she wore a dress like the one copied from Edith's. Edith walked more quickly, it was the retired part of the gardens on the way towards the Bayswater Road. The two figures turned down a flowery path.... It was Miss Townsend! She had turned her face. Edith was surprised, was interested, and walked on a few steps. She had not seen the man clearly. Then they both sat down on a seat. He took her hand. She left it in his. There was something familiar in his figure and clothes, and Edith saw his face. Yes, it was Bruce. Edith turned round and went home. CHAPTER XX Journeys End So that was how Bruce behaved to her! The deceit of both of them hurt her immensely. But she pulled herself together. It was a case for action. She felt a bitter, amused contempt, but she felt it half-urgent _not_ to do anything that would lead to a life of miserable bickering and mutual harm. It must be stopped. And without making Bruce hate her. She wrote the second note of this strange day and sent it by a messenger. Giving no reason of any kind, she told the governess that she had decided the children's holidays should begin from that day, and that she was unexpectedly going away with them almost immediately, and she added that she would not require Miss Townsend any more. She enclosed a cheque, and said she would send on some books and small possessions that Miss Townsend had kept there. This was sent by a messenger to Miss Townsend's home near Westbourne Grove. She would find it on her return from her walk! And now Edith read Aylmer's note--it was so real, so sincere, she began to disbelieve her eyes this morning. It gave her more courage; she wanted to be absolutely calm, and looking her very best, for Bruce's entrance. He came in with his key. He avoided her eye a little--looked rather sheepish, she thought. It was about seven. 'Hallo! Aren't the children in yet? Far too late for them to be out.' 'Nurse fetched Dilly. She has gone to bed. Archie is coming presently; mother will send him all right.' 'How are you, Edith, old girl?' 'I'm quite well, Bruce.' 'I have a sort of idea, as you know,' he said, growing more at ease, 'that we shall rather miss--a--Miss Townsend, when we first go away. What do you think of taking her for part of the time?' 'Dinner's ready,' announced Edith, and they dined. Towards the end of dinner he was about to make the suggestion again, when Edith said in clear, calm but decided tones: