Phillimore rose abruptly from her seat.

"Have you got the brandy and soda, Hester?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I forgot it, mother," the girl answered. "Mayn't I make you
some Russian tea? I've had the lemon sliced."

The woman laughed, a little unnaturally.

"What a dutiful daughter," she exclaimed. "That's right! I want looking
after, don't I? I'll have the tea, Hester, but send it up to my room. I'm
going to lie down. That wretched motoring has given me a headache, and
I'm dining out to-night. Good-bye, Mr. Mannering, if I don't see you
again."

She nodded, without glancing in his direction, and left the room. The
maid arranged the tea-tray and departed. Hester showed no signs of being
aware that anything unusual had happened. She made a little desultory
conversation. Mannering answered in monosyllables.

When at last he put his cup down he rose to go.

"You are quite sure, Hester," he said. "You have made up your mind?"

She, too, rose, and came over to him.

"You know that I am right," she answered, quietly. "The life you offer me
would be paradise, but I dare not even think of it. I may not do any good
here, perhaps I don't, but I can't come away."