CHAPTER 12




There passed a fortnight. Bertha heard nothing more of Miss Elvan,
till a letter arrived one morning in an envelope, showing on the
back an address at Teddington. Rosamund wrote that she had just
returned from Switzerland, and was staying for a few days with
friends; would it be possible for Bertha to come to Teddington the
same afternoon, for an hour or two's talk? The writer had so much to
say that could not be conveyed in a letter, and longed above all
things to see Bertha, the only being in whom, at a very grave
juncture in her life, she could absolutely confide. "We shall be
quite alone--Mr. and Mrs. Capron are going to town immediately
after lunch. This is a lovely place, and we shall have it to
ourselves all the afternoon. So don't be frightened--I know how
you hate strangers--but come, come, come!"

Bertha took train early in the afternoon. By an avenue of elms she
passed into a large and beautiful garden, and so came to the
imposing front door. Led into the drawing-room, she had time to take
breath, and to gaze at splendours such as she had never seen before;
then with soundless footfall, entered a slim, prettily-dressed girl
who ran towards her, and caught her hands, and kissed her with
graceful tenderness.