She dared not look into Mrs.Burgoyne's tired eyes.

The memory of words spoken to her in the darkness--of that expression she had surprised on Mrs.Burgoyne's face as she woke from her swoon in the library, suddenly renewed the nightmare in which she had been living.

Once more she felt herself walking among snares and shadows, with a trembling pulse.
Yet the feeling which rose to sight was nothing more than a stronger form of that remorseful tenderness which had been slowly invading her during many days.

She took Eleanor's hand in hers and kissed it shyly.
'Then _I_ shall look after _you_,' she said trying to smile.

'I'll have my way this time!' 'Wasn't that a carriage ?' said Eleanor hurriedly.