"Why, yes, of course--How do you do, Miss Rand? Yes, you're just the sort we want. For the moment Lady Seddon's my chief anxiety--she's borne up splendidly so far, but now I am a little afraid. I've got her to go and lie down--would you go to her, Miss Rand? Just be with her a little and let me know if anything happens----" "Sir Roderick?" "Pretty bad, I'm afraid--He'll live, I think--afraid will never run about, though, again." Lizzie made her way to Rachel's bedroom. She paused outside the door. This was the very hardest thing that she had ever, in all her life, had to do. If Rachel were to repulse her now it would surely be the final absolute proof that she was of no use, no use to anyone in this whole wide world. She knocked on the door and went in. "Who's that?" "It's I--Lizzie." The room was dark, but she saw that Rachel was lying on the bed--she went up to her--Rachel did not move. "I came," Lizzie said, "to see whether I could help--if I could do anything----" Rachel said nothing-- "If you'd rather--if you don't want to see me, of course just say...." Rachel turned over and Lizzie heard her say--"I did it--I wanted him--it was my fault--it was my fault." Lizzie knelt down beside the bed. "Rachel dear, you mustn't think that. It was nothing to do with anyone. But you can help him now, Rachel--He'll want you, he'll need you now as he's never wanted anyone." Rachel gave a bitter cry--Her hand touched Lizzie's, then she flung up her arm, caught Lizzie's neck, drew her towards her, put both her arms around her and held her, held her as though she would never let her go. BOOK III RODDY CHAPTER I REGENT'S PARK--BRETON AND LIZZIE "Yes," said Mrs. Bright, "he missed it all the time." "Missed what?" asked Miss Rankin. "'Is good luck," sighed Mrs. Bright.--HENRY GALLEON. I Francis Breton had known, during the weeks that preceded his letter to Rachel, torture that became to him at last so personal that he felt deliberate malignant agency behind its ingenious devices. At first it had seemed that that wonderful hour with Rachel would satisfy his needs for a long time to come; he had only, when life was hard, dull, colourless, monotonous, to recall it--to see again her movements, to hear her voice, to remember to the last and tiniest detail the things that she had said, to feel that clutch of her hand upon his coat, and instantly he was inflamed, exultant.