been trying to get to the spot where she could see with her own eyes,
and at last she had come to it. Of course, she had to admit to herself
that she did not actually hear Mr. Medcroft tell Constance that he loved
her, but it was enough for her that he sat with her in the semi-darkness
for two unbroken hours, speaking in tones so low that they might just as
well have been whispering so far as her taut ears were concerned.

Moreover, other persons than herself had smilingly nudged each other and
referred to the couple as lovers; no one seemed to doubt it--nor to
resent it, which is proof that the world loves a lover when it
recognises him as one.

Mrs. Rodney also discovered that Mrs. Medcroft went to her room at nine
o'clock, at least three hours before the subdued tête-à-tête came to an
end. The poor thing doubtless was crying her eyes out, decided Mrs.
Rodney.

And now, after all this, is it to be considered surprising that the
distressed mother of Katherine did not sleep well that night? Nor should
her wakefulness be laid at the door of the tired Mr. Rodney, who was
ever a firm and stentorian sleeper.

Morning came, and with it a horseback ride for Brock and Miss Fowler.
That was enough for Mrs. Rodney; she would hold in no longer. Mrs.
Odell-Carney must be told; she, at least, must have the chance to escape
before the storm of scandal broke to muddy her immaculate skirts.
Forthwith the considerate hostess appeared before her guest with a
headful of disclosures. She had decided in advance that it would not do
to beat about the bush, so to speak; she would come directly to the
obnoxious point.