Their little dialogue had closed, with the sound of a closing door, a stage in her life. She would never be the same as she had been before that episode. It had shown her that she was as romantic as the rest of the world. It had made her kinder, tenderer, wiser. And now once again she was independent--once again her soul was her own. She could be, once more, his friend, seeing him with all his faults, his impetuosities, his weak impulses. Her place was there for her to fill. It was not the place that she would once have chosen. But she had regained her soul, had once more control of her spirit. She was free. There stretched before her a world of work, of thrilling and ever-changing interest. There were Rachel and Rachel's baby.... "You seem in very good spirits, Lizzie," said Mrs. Rand as she came in. "I'm sure I'm very glad because it's too tiresome. Here's Daisy gone off...." III Afterwards she said to her mother: "I'm going down to Beaminster on Monday. I'm afraid I shall be away some time." "Oh! Lizzie!" said Mrs. Rand reproachfully. "Well, now--That _is_ a pity. Why must you?" "The Duchess is going and Lady Adela must go with her and I must go with Lady Adela." "Dear, dear. Whatever shall we do, Daisy and I? Daisy gets idler every day. It's always clothes with her now.... I suppose we shall manage." "I shall come up for week-ends." "What a way you speak of it! Of course you don't care! If you went away for years you wouldn't miss us, I dare say. I can't think why it is, Lizzie, that you're always so hard. Daisy and I have got plenty of feeling and emotion and your father, poor man, had more than he could manage. But I'm sure more's better than none at all, where feelings are concerned." "I suppose," said Lizzie, speaking to more than her mother, "that if everyone had so much feeling there'd be nobody to give the advice. Feelings don't suit everybody." "You're a strange girl," said Mrs. Rand, "and you're like no one in our family. All your aunts and uncles are kind and friendly. I don't suggest that you don't do your best, Lizzie. You do, I'm sure--and nobody could deny that you've got a head for figures and running a house. But a little heart...." "I've come to the conclusion I'm better without any," Lizzie laughed. "I expect I'm more like you and Daisy, mother, than you know----" "Well, you're a strange girl," said Mrs. Rand again, "and I never understand half you say." Lizzie came to her and kissed her. "You always miss me, you know, mother, when I'm away, in spite of my hard heart." "Well, that's true," said Mrs. Rand, looking at her daughter with wide and rather tearful eyes. "But I'm sure I don't know why I do." CHAPTER XI THE LAST VIEW FROM HIGH WINDOWS "Not without fortitude I wait ... ... I, in this house so rifted, marr'd, So ill to live in, hard to leave; I, so star-weary, over-warr'd, That have no joy in this your day." _Francis Thompson._ I