"I'd let 'em burn!" said the squire. "They have some cause for grievance," she urged. "At least Dick thinks so." "Well, and who hasn't, I should like to know?" he returned with warmth. "How many people are there in the world who don't feel that if they had their rights they'd be a good deal better off in one respect or another than they are? But there's no sense in trying to stop the world going round on that account. That's always the way with these miner chaps. What's the rest of the community matter so long as they get all they want? They're not sportsmen. They hit below the belt every time." "That's just it," Juliet said. "Dick is trying to teach them to be sportsmen." "Oh, Dick!" said the squire. "He'd reform the world if he could. But he's wasting his time. They won't be satisfied till they've had their fling. Lord Wilchester is a wise man to keep out of the way till it's over." "I'm afraid I don't agree with you there," Juliet said, flushing a little. "He might at least hear what they have to say. But they can't get hold of him. He is abroad." "But Yardley is left," said the squire. "I suppose he has power to act." "Perhaps," she said, the moment's animation passing. "But it is Wilchester's business--not his. He shirks his duty." "I notice you never have a good word for any of the Farringmore family," said the squire quizzically. She shook her head. "They are all so selfish. It's the family failing, I'm afraid." "You don't share it anyhow," said Vera. "Ah! You don't know me," said Juliet. They went for a long motor-ride when the meal was over, but at the end of it, it seemed to Vera that they had talked solely of her affairs throughout. She knew Juliet's quiet reticence of old and made no attempt to pierce it. But, thinking it over later, it seemed to her that there was something more than her usual reserve behind it, and a vague sense of uneasiness awoke within her. She wondered if Juliet were happy. They had tea on their return, but Juliet would not stay any later. She must be back, she said, to meet Dick and be sure that the supper was ready in good time. So, regretfully, still with that inexplicable feeling of doubt upon her, Vera let her go. Just at the last she detained her for a moment to say with an effort that was plainly no light one, "Juliet, don't forget I am here if--if you ever need a friend!" And then Juliet surprised her by a sudden, close embrace and a low-spoken, "I shall never forget you--or your goodness to me." But a second later she was gone, and Vera was left to wonder. As for Juliet, she hastened away as one in a fever to escape, yet before she reached the end of the avenue her feet moved as if weighted with chains. A mist was creeping up from the sea and through it there came the long call of a distant syren. The waves were no longer roaring along the shore. The sound of them came muffled and vague, and she knew that the storm had gone down.