gropingly existed, 'Why should she?'

'She shouldn't, but perhaps you yourself are making a mistake.'

She heard indistinctly the word, 'Impossible.'

'You can't be sure.'

'I'm quite certain about that--about nothing else.' His big hands
moved. 'I cling to that.'

'Then you must be ready to serve her. Charles, if I ever needed you--'

'I'd do anything for you because you're her aunt. And besides,' he
said simply, 'you're rather like her in the face.'

'Thank you, but it's her you may have to serve--and not me. I want her
to be happy. I don't know where her happiness is, but I know where it
is not. Some day I may tell you.' She looked at him. He might be
useful as an ally; she was sure he could be trusted. 'Promise you will
do anything I ask for her sake.'

He turned the head which had been sunk on his crumpled shirt. 'Is
anything the matter?' he asked, concerned, and more alert than she had
ever seen him.

She said, 'Hush!' for the door behind was opening and it let in a
murmur of voices and a rush of cold, fresh air. Rose shivered and,
looking round, she saw Henrietta and Francis Sales. Her cloak was half
on and half off her shoulders, her colour was very high and her eyes