"I will see Marie and come down at once." She hurried upstairs. "Marie," she asked, "is it quite safe to leave you here alone until afternoon?" "Safe? Why not?" "I was going out to the bungalow." The old servant looked up shrewdly. "Is anything the matter?" "Nothing that you can help," the girl answered. She had not yet told her of Ben's last disappearance. There was no use in worrying those who could give no help. "Bien. Go on. It will do you both good." "The telephone is at your bed--you can summon Dr. Abbot if you need anything." "Bien." "And perhaps while I am gone Jacques may come for a visit." "Perhaps. Run along. The air will do you good." The girl kissed the wrinkled forehead and hurried to her own room. There, before the mirror, she was forced to ask herself the question which she had tried to escape: "Why are you going?" "Because if Ben were there and sick, he might need me!" "Why are you going?" The woman in the mirror was relentless. "Because the house here is so full of shadows." "Why are you going?" "Because the sun will give me strength." "Why are you going?" "Because," she flushed guiltily,--"because it will be very much pleasanter than remaining here alone." Whereupon the woman in the mirror ceased her questioning. And, in the meanwhile, the relentless old clock was goading Donaldson. Its methodical, interminable ticking sounded like the approaching footsteps of a jailer towards the death cell. "Don't you know better than to risk yourself out there one whole spring-time day with her?" it demanded. "But with a full realization of the danger I can guard myself," he answered uneasily. "Can you guard _her_?" "That is unpardonable presumption," replied Donaldson heatedly. "The mellow sun and the birthing flowers are ever presumptuous," answered the wise old clock. "But a man may fight them off." "I have ticked here many years and seen many things that man has prided himself upon having the power to do and yet has failed of doing." "I cannot help myself. I should offend her unwarrantedly if I made further objection." "Then you are not all-powerful." "I have power over myself. And you are insulting her." "Tick-tock. Tick-tock," answered the clock, jeeringly. And Donaldson was saved from his impulse to kick the inanimate thing into splinters by the sound of her footsteps. CHAPTER X _Outside the Hedge_