She saw her turn back and enter her aunt’s room, as if for a chat--a bedtime habit she had. It was perhaps an hour later that the sleepers at The Crags were all startled from rest by two loud, ringing shrieks from the direction of Gipsy Darke’s room. CHAPTER XV. A STRUGGLE FOR A RING. Miss Willoughby had a very bad quarter of an hour with her wilful niece that evening. For she had not been in the room five minutes before she abruptly brought the conversation around to her new grievance. “What was Laurie doing in Gipsy’s room before he went away?” “Oh, my dear, he just came up there searching for me, to say good-by.” “He might have sent a servant to call you.” “He did not seem to have time to stand on ceremony,” the old lady answered somewhat tartly. “Was he talking to you, or Gipsy?” continued Lelia curiously. “To us both, I believe. In fact, almost as soon as he came in a servant called me out on some domestic matter, and presently Laurie came hurrying after me, and we went down together to the trap that was waiting to take him to the station.” “Ah, so he was left alone with that artful girl!” snapped Lelia, with flashing eyes. “Only for a moment, my dear, and you can see for yourself that it was really unavoidable,” soothed her aunt, but adding, with latent irony: “But what does it matter, anyway? You say you have broken with him, so he is surely free to speak to another girl if he chooses.” “You always take his part against me, Aunt Cyrilla, and excuse him for all the flagrant flirtations that drive me mad!” cried out her niece reproachfully. “Nonsense, Lelia. Laurie never flirted in his life. Your jealousy is entirely unfounded.” “How can you say so? You should have seen him only to-day!” and the angry girl poured out her grievances in eloquent words, with adroit touches of high coloring that made Laurie’s sins look very black indeed. But Miss Willoughby made due allowance for her tendency to exaggerate her injuries, and calmly replied: “After a night’s reflection, my dear, Laurie’s faults will not seem so black as you paint them now, and you will be repenting your anger and be wanting him back.” “I--I--I--want him back now!” sobbed the beauty, humbling herself in her despair to acknowledge the truth. “Oh, I did not dream he would go away in such haste! He never acted like that when we quarreled before! Where has he gone, aunt? Did he tell you?” anxiously. Miss Willoughby could only tell her that Laurie had said he was called home by a telegram, and she advised Lelia to write to him and crave his pardon for her unkindness. But the girl turned on her fiercely, resentfully, in her towering pride. “I will never humble myself to call him back! He will stay forever if he waits for that!” and she darted from the room in a violent passion. And a yearning to vent her ill-humor on one who dared not strike back carried her straight to Gipsy’s presence.