"I know I am," answered Nan with quiet conviction. "I feel as though all this time I had been profaning our love. Now I want to keep it quite, quite sacred--in my heart. It wouldn't make any difference even if Peter ceased to care for me. It's my caring for him that matters." "Shall you--do you intend to see Roger?" "No. I shall write to him to-morrow. But if he still wishes to see me after that, of course I can't refuse." "And Peter?" "He will have gone." Kitty shook her head. "No. He sails the day after to-morrow. He couldn't get a berth before." "Then"--very softly and with a quiet radiance in her eyes--"then I will write to him to-morrow--after I've written to Roger." Nan fell silent, gazing absently into the fire. There was a deep sense of thankfulness in her heart that she would be able to heal the hurt she had done Peter before he went East to face the bitter and difficult thing which awaited his doing. A strange sense of comfort stole over her. When she had written her letter to Roger, retracting the promise she had given him, she would be free--free to belong wholly to the man she loved. Though they might never be together, though their love must remain for ever unconsummated, still in her loneliness she would know herself utterly and entirely his. CHAPTER XXXV THE GATES OF FATE The fishing party returned to Mallow the following morning. They were in high spirits, full of stories and cracking jokes about each other's prowess or otherwise--especially the "otherwise," although, both men united in praising Penelope's exploits as a fisherwoman. "Beginner's luck, of course!" chaffed Barry. "It was your first serious attempt at fishing, wasn't it, Penny?" "Yes. But it's not going to be my last!" she retorted. "And I'll take a bet with you as to who catches the most trout next time." The advent of three people who were in complete ignorance of the happenings of the last few days went far to restore the atmosphere to normal. Amid the bustle of their arrival and the gay chatter which accompanied it, it would have been impossible for Kitty, at least, not to throw aside for the moment the anxieties which beset her and join in the general fun and laughter. But Nan, although she played up pluckily, so that no suspicions were aroused in the minds of the returned wanderers, was still burdened by the knowledge of what yet remained for her to do, and when the jolly clamour had abated a trifle she escaped upstairs to write her letter to Roger. It was a difficult letter to write because, though nothing he could say or do would alter her determination, she realised that in his own way he loved her and she wanted to hurt him as little as possible.