She drew off her gloves and seated herself before the teapot. All the time her eyes were fixed upon Macheson. She was feverishly anxious to have him also seat himself, and he could scarcely look away from the woman who, with a face like a mask, was calmly arranging the things from the tray upon the table. When she left the room he drew a little breath. "Do they feel--really, these people," he asked, "or are they Stoics?" "We feel through our nerves," she answered, "and they haven't many. Is that too much cream?--and pass the strawberry jam, please." He ate and drank mechanically. The charm of this simple meal alone with her was gone--it seemed to him that there was tragedy in the arrangement of the table. She talked to him lightly, and he answered--what he scarcely knew. Suddenly he interposed a question. "When did this girl Letty leave home?" he asked. "I am not sure," she answered. "We will ask Mrs. Foulton." Mrs. Foulton came silently in. "We want to know, Mrs. Foulton, when Letty went away," Wilhelmina asked. "A week ago to-morrow, madam," Mrs. Foulton answered. "Is there anything else you will be wanting?" "Nothing, thank you," Wilhelmina answered, and then, seeing that the woman lingered, she continued: "Are you wanting to get rid of us?" The woman hesitated. "It isn't that, madam," she said, "but I'm wanting to step out as soon as possible." The same idea occurred at once to both Wilhelmina and Macheson. "You are going down to the village, Mrs. Foulton?" Wilhelmina asked gravely. "I'm going down to have a bit of talk with Mr. Stephen Hurd, madam," she answered grimly. "I'd be glad to clear away as soon as convenient." Wilhelmina turned round in her chair, and laid her hand upon the woman's arm. "Mrs. Foulton," she said, "Mr. Macheson and I are going to see him at once. Leave it to us, please." Mrs. Foulton shook her head doubtfully. "Letty's my daughter, madam, thank you kindly," she said. "I must go myself." Wilhelmina shook her head. "No!" she said firmly. "You can go and see him afterwards, if you like. Mr. Macheson and I are going to see what we can do first. Believe me, Mrs. Foulton, it will be better for Letty." The woman was shaken and Wilhelmina pushed home her advantage. "We are going straight to the village now, Mrs. Foulton," she said. "You will only have to be patient for a very short time. Come, Mr. Macheson. If you are ready we will start." They walked briskly along the country lane, through the early twilight. They said little to one another. Macheson was profoundly moved by the tragedy of Letty's disappearance. With his marvellous gift of sympathy, he had understood very well the suffering of the woman whom they had just left. He shivered when he thought of the child. With every step they took, his face resolved itself into grimmer lines. Wilhelmina was forced at last to protest.