"I hope you enjoyed yourself, dear." "Very much, Aunt Anne. Uncle Mathew was very kind." "What did you do?" Maggie flushed. It was deceit and lies now all the time, and oh! how she hated lies! But she went on: "Do you know, Aunt Anne, I think Uncle Mathew is so changed. He's younger and everything. He talked quite differently last night, about his business and all that he's doing. He's got his money in malt now, he says." "Whose money?" asked Aunt Anne. "His own, he says. I never knew he had any. But he says yes, it's in malt. It's not a nice hotel, though, where he lives." "Not nice, dear?" "No, I didn't like it. But it's only for men really of course." "I think he'd better take you somewhere else next time. I'll speak to him. By the way, Maggie dear, Martha tells me you went out yesterday afternoon all alone--into the Strand. I think it would be better if you were to tell us." Maggie's cheeks were hot. She set back her shoulders. "How does Martha know?" she asked quickly. "I only went for a moment--only for a little walk. But I'm grown up, Aunt Anne. Surely I can go out by myself if ..." she stopped, looking away from them into the fire. "It isn't that, dear," Aunt Anne said very gently. "It's only that you've been so little a time in London that you can't know your way about yet. And London's a strange place. It might be unpleasant for you alone. I'd rather that you told us first." Then Maggie delivered her challenge. "But, aunt, I won't be always here. I'm going off to earn my living soon, aren't I?" Aunt Elizabeth drew her breath in sharply. Aunt Anne said quietly: "You are free, dear, quite free. But whilst I am not quite myself--I don't want to be selfish, dear--but you are a great comfort to us, and when I am stronger certainly you shall go ... even now if you wish, of course ... but my illness." Even as she spoke--and it was the first time that she had ever mentioned her illness--she caught at her breast and pressed her hand there as though she were in great pain. Maggie sprang to her side. She caught the girl's hand with hers and held her. Maggie could feel her swift agonized breathing. Then with a little sigh the moment had passed. Maggie still knelt there looking up into her aunt's face. Martha's voice was heard at the door. "Mr. Martin Warlock, Miss. Could you see him? ..." "Yes, Martha," said Aunt Anne, her voice calm and controlled. "Ask him to come up." She had abandoned so completely any idea that he might still come that she could not now feel that it was he. She withdrew from her aunt's side and stood in the shadow against the wall.