The violent action made her feel better. She opened the window wide and cooled her hot cheeks with the September breeze. It was still quite early in the morning, and she wondered how she could occupy her time till Forrester came home. That Faith would not speak to her she was sure. She was not at all surprised to hear presently from one of the maids that Faith had gone out with Digby and was not returning to lunch. Peg made a little grimace. This was throwing down the glove with a vengeance, but she only laughed as she turned away. "I shan't be in either," she said, though she had no more idea than the dead what she meant to do. But she put on her hat and coat and went out. It was a lovely morning, sunny and with just a touch of crispness in the air, as if during the night winter had passed that way and breathed on the world. Peg wandered round the West End staring vacantly into shop windows, but her thoughts were far away. It was only when, towards one o'clock, she began to feel hungry the sudden idea came to her that she would go home. She had only visited her own people twice since she left them at Forrester's request. There was a tingling of excitement in her veins as she climbed on to a city omnibus. What would they say to her, she wondered. Not that she cared. Peg had never got on with her mother, who had married again, her second husband being a man named Johnson, employed at Heeler's factory. There were two small step-brothers, rough, red-haired little boys, too like their father for Peg to care about them. But nevertheless the house in the mean street was the only home she had known, and there was a faintly pleasurable warmth in her heart as she climbed off the bus at the corner of the street and walked the remaining few yards. The street looked more squalid than usual to-day, she thought, not realizing that the change lay in herself. The door of the house was open, and down the narrow passage she could hear her mother's scolding voice and the sound of a well-administered box on the ears, followed by a prolonged howl from one of the boys. Peg shivered as she walked down the passage and pushed open the kitchen door. Had she ever really been happy and contented to live in such surroundings? And fear went through her heart as she realized that before long she might have to return to them again. The kitchen seemed full of people, though at first she could only distinguish her mother through the mist of steam that was rising from a wash-tub. "Hullo!" Peg said laconically. She looked round for a chair, but they were all occupied, so she leaned against the door, hands on hips. The red-haired boy who had had his ears boxed stopped howling to stare at her. Mrs. Johnson deserted the wash-tub and came forward, wiping soapy arms on a not over-clean apron. "Well, who'd have thought of seeing you?" she said blankly. Peg nodded carelessly to her stepfather, who had risen awkwardly to offer her a chair.