She was afraid, but she conceived that she ought to examine the house, and no fear could have stopped her from going forth into the zone of danger. The next moment she gave a short laugh, and said in her ordinary tone-- "Bless us! I shall be forgetting the nose on my face next. It's Miss Rachel coming in, of course." "Miss Rachel coming in!" repeated Mrs. Maldon. "Has she been out? I was not aware. She said nothing--" "Her came up a bit since, and said her had to do some shopping." "Shopping! At this time of night!" murmured Mrs. Maldon. Said Mrs. Tams laconically-- "To-morrow's Sunday--and pray God ye'll fancy a bite o' summat tasty." While the two old women, equalized in rank by the fact of Mrs. Maldon's illness, by the sudden alarm, and by the darkness of the room, were thus conversing, sounds came from the pavement through the slightly open windows--voices, and the squeak of the gate roughly pushed open. "That's Miss Rachel now," said Mrs. Tams. "Then who was it came in before?" Mrs. Maldon demanded. There was the tread of rapid feet on the stone steps, and then the gate squeaked again. Mrs. Tams went to the window and pulled aside the blind. "Aye!" she announced simply. "It's Miss Rachel and Mr. Fores." Mrs. Maldon caught her breath. "You didn't tell me she was out with Mr. Fores," said Mrs. Maldon, stiffly but weakly. "It's first I knew of it," Mrs. Tams replied, still spying over the pavement. "He's given her th' key. There! He's gone." Mrs. Maldon muttered-- "The key? What key?" "Th' latch-key belike." "I must speak to Miss Rachel," breathed Mrs. Maldon in a voice of extreme and painful apprehension. The front door closing sent a vibration through the bedroom. Mrs. Tarns hesitated an instant, and then raised the gas. Mrs. Maldon lay with shut eyes on her left side and gave no sign of consciousness. Light footsteps could be heard on the stairs. "I'll go see," said Mrs. Tams. In the heart of the aged woman exanimate on the bed, and in the heart of the aging woman whose stout, coarse arm was still raised to the gas-tap, were the same sentiments of wonder, envy, and pity, aroused by the enigmatic actions of a younger generation going its perilous, instinctive ways to keep the race alive.