“God help you to carry it through,” said Theodore. “I shall stay at the Priory till I hear from you. Be so kind as to ask Lady Cheriton to bring my portmanteau and dressing-bag in her carriage this afternoon. I may tell Juanita that her mother is coming to-day, may I not?” “Decidedly! Good-bye. God bless you, Theodore. I know that I may rely upon your holding your tongue. I know I can rely upon your active help if I should need you.” And so with a cordial grasp of hands they parted, Theodore to take his seat in the dog-cart, and drive towards the Priory to offer himself to his cousin as her guest for an indefinite period. It was a curious position in which he found himself; but the delight of being in Juanita’s society, of being in somewise her protector, was a counterbalance to the embarrassing conditions under which he was to approach her. CHAPTER XXXI. “Love’s reason’s without reason.” The cob was all the fresher for the impatience which he had suffered in standing for nearly an hour in the lane, and he bowled the dog-cart along the level roads at a tremendous pace. Theodore arrived at the Priory before eleven, and found Juanita sitting on the lawn with her baby in her lap, and the dog Styx at her side. His heart leapt with gladness at the sight of her sitting there, safe and happy, in the morning sunshine, for his morbid imagination had been at work as he drove along, and he had been haunted by hideous visions of some swift and bloody act which might be done by the fugitive mad woman before he could reach the Priory. What deed might not be done by a woman in the state of mind which that woman must have been in when she left the evidence and the confession of her crime upon the table and fled out of her house in the early morning? A silent thanksgiving went up from his heart to his God as he saw Juanita sitting in the sunshine, smiling at him, holding out her hand to him in surprised welcome. She was safe, and it was his business to guard her against that deadly enemy. He knew now whence the danger was to come—whose the hand he had to fear. It was no longer a nameless enemy, an inscrutable peril from which he had to defend her. “How early you are, Theodore. Everybody is well, I hope—there is nothing wrong at home?” “No. Every one is well. Your father is going to London for a few days, and your mother is coming to stay with you during his absence, and I come to throw myself on your hospitality while she is here. His lordship has heard of some suspicious characters in your neighbourhood, and has taken it into his head that it will be well for you to have me as your guest until your brothers-in-law come to you for the shooting. I hope you won’t mind having me, Juanita?”