And now, perhaps, in another day or so, she would learn that he had done with her for ever.

She sat there, huddled, trembling, her eyes burning, her throat dry.

Oh! why wouldn't the carriage go faster! If only this storm would come and that terrible sky would break! She knew that Mrs. Rand and Daisy were away in the country and Lizzie went out very seldom. She would find her. She _must_ find her. She shuddered to think what she might do were Lizzie not at home.

They were there. Yes, Miss Rand was at home: Rachel went in.

Lizzie was sitting quietly by the open window, reading. She looked up and saw Rachel in a dress of black and gold, her face very pale, as she stood there in the doorway.

"Lizzie dear--Lizzie." Rachel flung off her cloak, stood for a moment motionless, then without another word, huddled up on to the sofa and, her face buried in her arm, began to cry. Lizzie came across to her, took her hand, and sat there without speaking.

After a long time she said, "Rachel dear. What is it?"

Rachel clung to her, holding her fiercely. At last, looking up but away from Lizzie, she said, "Oh! if you hadn't been here. I don't know--I simply don't know what--I think it's this night. This awful night. It's so close and the storm is so long coming."

"Has anything particular happened?"

"Yes. The d.u.c.h.ess has told Roddy about--about Francis--or I think she has. Roddy's said nothing to me, but I ought to speak to him, to tell him.... I've put it off."

Lizzie said softly. "You must tell him, Rachel. You know that you must.

It's the only thing. I thought it would come to that sooner or later."

"But it's more than that. I'm not well. I don't know what it is, but I've never felt like it before, and it makes me more frightened than I've ever been. To-night I've been more frightened."

But Lizzie was thinking.

"Has your grandmother told many people?"

"I don't know. I know nothing; that's what makes it so hard. It's all had a climax to-night. There was an awful dinner at old Lady Carloes'

and it was so hot and stuffy that I nearly fainted. I had to leave. And then, coming here ..."

Rachel began to tremble again and, creeping close to Lizzie, she held her tighter.

"Lizzie ... in the cab coming here ... Francis ... I had such thoughts.

I couldn't have believed...."

Lizzie's eyes gazed out into the square, far away--not like a Pool to-night, Mr. Breton. All hard and cruel and even the Nymph has no softness.

She kissed Rachel. "It's the night, dear. When the weather's like this it affects one. London's awful to-night. There'll be such a storm soon."

"But it's worse, Lizzie. I seem to-night to have seen myself as I am--more clearly than before. My priggishness--talking so much about Truth and then--the things I do. Roddy, Francis, all the same. I've treated them all badly. I've been true to no one. I'm no good...."

"Promise me, dear, that you'll tell him--your husband--everything--to-morrow. Promise me."

"But Lizzie, perhaps----"

"No--no--no. Everything. To-morrow."

"He'll hate me. He'll----"

"No matter. You must. To-morrow."

Rachel was silent. Then she looked into Lizzie's face. "Yes," she said, "I will."

Then, with a little sigh, she fainted.

V

When she rose to a realization of life again she was lying upon Lizzie's bed and the storm had broken over the house. Lizzie was holding her hand; the thunder roared. Coming with stealthy steps closer and closer, sometimes to creep stealthily away again, sometimes to break, with crashing splendour, upon their very heads.

The lightning flung Lizzie's bedroom into pale brilliance and was gone; Life leapt into vision, then surrendered to the candle flare, then leapt again.

Rachel smiled faintly. She felt around her and about her a great peace.

She knew that all her terror had departed; her one thought now was to return to Roddy and tell him everything.

She sat up. "How silly of me to faint. It's a thing I've never done in my life. How _did_ you get me here?"

"The maid and I carried you in. It's better for you in here."

"I think I'll go now, Lizzie dear."

"Wait a little while."

They stayed in silence. Then they heard the rain that lashed the windows.

"Isn't the rain terrific?... Oh! Lizzie, it's all gone, all the terror, all that awful fright." She added solemnly, "I don't believe I'll ever feel like that again. It'll never come back--I'm sure of it."

Rachel sat silently for a moment, then turned and buried her head in Lizzie's dress.

"Lizzie dear, I've been so frightened--of something else."

"Of what?"

"I'm going to have a child. I've known it for some time. At first I wasn't sure. Then I knew. I was frightened and miserable. Then, as with every day I seemed to grow fonder and fonder of Roddy I became glad about it. Then very happy----"

"Oh, Rachel dear, I'm _so_ glad!"

"Yes. But now, with this, about Roddy it's all dreadful again. If he should turn on me now just when I've begun to care."

She sat up in bed, her eyes staring, her hands clutching the clothes.

"Lizzie, if it _should_ come right!--if it _should_! Just think what a child would mean for him; he's so brave, lying there all day, making himself amused and interested. I watch him often and wonder where all that courage comes from. _I_ couldn't have done it.... But now, if the child's a boy, he'll be able to put all his old strength and keenness into _him_--and the Place! Think what it will mean to him to have that!"

"And for you?" asked Lizzie.

"I believe it's what I've wanted. Oh! if only things are all right with Roddy, then I can start again and have some decent pride about it all.

I've made _such_ a mess of things so far."