Caius walked listening to the sea lapping below the low cliff near which the road ran, and watching the bats that often circled in the dark-blue dusk overhead.

Thus going on, he gradually recognised a little group walking in front of him.

It was the woman, Mrs.Day, and her three children.
Holding a child by either hand, she tramped steadily forward.

Something in the way she walked, in the way the children walked--a dull, mechanical action in their steps--perplexed Caius.
He stepped up beside them with a word of neighbourly greeting.
The woman did not answer for some moments; when she did, although her words were ordinary, her voice seemed to Caius to come from out some far distance whither her mind had wandered.
"Going to call on someone, I suppose, Mrs.Day ?" said he, inwardly anxious.
"Yes," she replied; "we're going to see a friend--the children and me." Again it seemed that there was some long distance between her and the young man who heard her.
"Come along and see my mother," he urged, with solicitude.

"She always has a prime welcome for visitors, mother has." The words were hearty, but they excited no heartiness of response.
"We've another place to go to to-night," she said.