She instantly perceived that getting into close quarters in that way might be very inconvenient, considering the youngsters she had under her charge, and straightway decided upon a point that she had debated for several days--a visit to her aunt in Normandy. In London it had been a mere thought, but the Channel had looked so tempting from its brink that the journey was virtually fixed as soon as she reached Knollsea, and found that a little pleasure steamer crossed to Cherbourg once a week during the summer, so that she would not have to enter the crowded routes at all. 'I am afraid I shall not see you in Knollsea,' she said. 'I am about to go to Cherbourg and then to Rouen.' 'How sorry I am. When do you leave?' 'At the beginning of next week,' said Ethelberta, settling the time there and then. 'Did I hear you say that you were going to Cherbourg and Rouen?' Lord Mountclere inquired. 'I think to do so,' said Ethelberta. 'I am going to Normandy myself,' said a voice behind her, and without turning she knew that Neigh was standing there. They next went outside, and Lord Mountclere offered Ethelberta his arm on the ground of assisting her down the burnished grass slope. Ethelberta, taking pity upon him, took it; but the assistance was all on her side; she stood like a statue amid his slips and totterings, some of which taxed her strength heavily, and her ingenuity more, to appear as the supported and not the supporter. The incident brought Neigh still further from his retirement, and she learnt that he was one of a yachting party which had put in at Knollsea that morning; she was greatly relieved to find that he was just now on his way to London, whence he would probably proceed on his journey abroad. Ethelberta adhered as well as she could to her resolve that Neigh should not speak with her alone, but by dint of perseverance he did manage to address her without being overheard. 'Will you give me an answer?' said Neigh. 'I have come on purpose.' 'I cannot just now. I have been led to doubt you.' 'Doubt me? What new wrong have I done?' 'Spoken jestingly of my visit to Farnfield.' 'Good ---! I did not speak or think of you. When I told that incident I had no idea who the lady was--I did not know it was you till two days later, and I at once held my tongue. I vow to you upon my soul and life that what I say is true. How shall I prove my truth better than by my errand here?' 'Don't speak of this now. I am so occupied with other things. I am going to Rouen, and will think of it on my way.' 'I am going there too. When do you go?' 'I shall be in Rouen next Wednesday, I hope.' 'May I ask where?' 'Hotel Beau Sejour.' 'Will you give me an answer there? I can easily call upon you. It is now a month and more since you first led me to hope--' 'I did not lead you to hope--at any rate clearly.'