George Patterson started in pursuit. He called again twice, and the sound of his voice was a whip to Jane’s terror. After at the most a minute he gave up the chase, and Jane flew on, pursued by nothing worse than her own fear. Just by the first fuchsia bush she ran, blind and panting, into the very arms of Mr. Ember. The impact nearly knocked him down, and it may be considered as certain that he was very much taken aback. Jane came back to a knowledge of her whereabouts to find herself gripping Mr. Ember’s arm and stammering out that something had frightened her. “What?” inquired Ember. “I—don’t—know,” said Jane, half sobbing, but already conscious that she did not desire to confide in Jeffrey Ember. “But you _must_ know.” “I don’t.” With a little gasp Jane let go, and wished ardently that her knees would stop shaking. Ember looked at her very curiously. Jane had often wondered what his queer cold eyes reminded her of. Curiously enough, it was now, in the midst of her fright, that she knew. They were like pebbles—the greeny-grey ones which lie by the thousand on the seashore. As a rule they were dull and hard, just as the pebbles are dull and hard when they are dry. But sometimes when he was angry, when he cross-questioned you, or when he looked at Lady Heritage the dullness vanished and they looked as the pebbles look when some sudden wave has touched them. Jane did not know when she disliked them most. They brightened slowly now as they fixed themselves upon her, and Ember said: “Do you know, I was hoping I might meet you. We haven’t had a real talk since you came.” “No,” said Jane. Her manner conveyed no ardent desire for conversation. “Shall we walk a little?” pursued her companion; “the wind’s cold for standing. I really do want to talk to you.” Jane said nothing at all. If Ember wished to talk, let him talk. She was still shaky, and not at all in the mood for fencing. “Well, how do you like being here? How do we strike you?” Ember spoke quite casually, and Jane thought it was strange that he and Henry should both have asked her the same question. Her reply, however, differed. “I don’t know,” she said. “Don’t you? My dear Miss Renata, what a really extraordinary number of things you—don’t know! You don’t know what frightened you, and you don’t know whether you like us or not.” Jane’s temper carried her away. “Oh yes, I do,” she said viciously, and looked full at the bright pebble eyes. Ember laughed. “What do you think of Lady Heritage? Wonderful, isn’t she?” “Oh yes,” said Jane. “She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Too beautiful, don’t you think?” If she desired to interest Jeffrey Ember, it appeared that she had succeeded. His attention was certainly arrested. “Why too beautiful?” Jane had an impulse towards frankness. “I think she’s too ... everything. She has so many gifts, it does not seem as if there could be scope for them all.”