even her gentle, garrulous little stepmother's good opinion was dear to
her. She would seal it up again and forward it on herself; it would
reach her at home a day after her own arrival. Yes, thought Blanche,
everything would dovetail excellently. She went into the kitchen where
Mrs. Penticost was ironing and the pleasant smell of warm linen hung
upon the air.

"I've decided I must go home, Mrs. Penticost," she said. "That letter
was to say my father is very ill, and I was only waiting till I'd seen
Mr. Ruan.... I've told him I must go to-morrow. I'm so sorry, but--"

"Ah!" interrupted Mrs. Penticost; "'tes as well--'twould be dull for 'ee
alone wi'out Mr. Ruan able to come so much about the place, and I
wouldn' have had en here with Miss Judy gone and you alone. You was
rare taken up wi' he!"

Blanche's vanity was too insatiable to spare Ishmael; she sighed
pathetically.

"Oh, Mrs. Penticost! you make me feel horribly guilty, for I'm afraid
it's all over," she said with simple earnestness, "but I couldn't
prevent it; and poor Mr. Ruan--"

"Don't 'ee go for to tell I about it!" broke in Mrs. Penticost; "'tes
downright ondecent in 'ee!"

Blanche flushed. "Horrid, insufferable woman!" she thought angrily as
she went upstairs. "How thankful I shall be to see the last of her!"

Opening her box, she began to throw her belongings in viciously. From