Was she or was she not Brian Wendover's affianced wife? How far was she to trust in him, to lean upon him, in this crucial hour of her life? There had been so much playfulness in their love-making, his tone had been for the most part so light and sportive, that now, when she stood, as it were, face to face with destiny, she hardly knew how to think of him, whether as a rock that she might lean upon, or as a reed that would give way at her touch. Rock or reed, womanly instinct told her that it was not to this fervent admirer she must apply for aid or counsel yet awhile. Her duty was to go home at once--to get across the Channel, if possible, as quickly as Miss Pew's letter to her father. Intent on doing this, she walked along the dusty high road by the river, in the direction of the railway station. This station was more than two miles distant, a long, straight walk by the river, and then a mile or so across fields and by narrow lanes to an arid spot, where some newly-built houses were arising round a hopeless-looking little loop-line station in a desert of agricultural land. She had walked about three-quarters of a mile, when she heard the rapid dip of oars, as if in pursuit of her, and a familiar voice calling to her. It was Brian, who almost lived in his boat, and who had caught sight of her in the distance, and followed at racing speed. 'What are you doing?' he asked, coming up close to the bank, and standing up in his boat. 'Where are you going at such a pace? I don't think I ever saw a woman walk so fast.' 'Was I walking fast?' she asked, unconscious of the impetus which excitement had given to her movements. She knew in her heart of hearts that she did not love him--that love--the passion which she had read of in prose and poetry was still a stranger to her soul: but just at this moment, galled and stung by Miss Pew's unkindness, heart-sick at her own absolute desolation, the sound of his voice was sweet in her ears, the look of the tall slim figure, the friendly face turned towards her, was pleasant to her eyes. No, he was not a reed, he was a rock. She felt protected and comforted by his presence. 'Were you walking fast! Galloping like a three-year-old--_quæ velut latis equa trima campis_,' quoted Brian. 'Are you running away from Mauleverer Manor?' 'I am going away,' she answered calmly. 'I have been expelled.' 'Ex--what?' roared Brian. 'I have been expelled--sent away at a minute's notice--for the impropriety of my conduct in allowing you to talk to me in the river-meadow.' Brian had been fastening his boat to a pollard willow as he talked. He leapt on to the bank, and came close to Ida's side.