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before her. What could she do for Clive? What could she do for herself? Until she could see him alone all that she could do was to present him with a clear surface. She prayed that she kept it clear as she looked up at the two before her and went on: ‘She didn’t come with me and asked me to tell you that she was going to town and wouldn’t be back till after dinner.—Perhaps you and Celia will come and dine with me—since you’ll be alone.—Robin will be all right with Nurse, won’t he?’

And now, as she felt the intentness of their gaze, she remembered that she had said no word to Celia of Hester’s defection and knew that Celia as well as Clive scented disaster.

‘But—didn’t she?—I mean———Hadn’t Hester anything to say to you?’ Clive’s light was all extinguished. ‘Don’t go, Celia.’ He laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder as she made a movement to leave them. He took refuge in Celia, who understood him and Hester; who, already, was fond of Hester.

‘Yes; stay, Celia,’ said Monica, glancing at the girl’s pale face. ‘It was dear of you to send her, Clive, and we had quite a little talk. Perhaps she had some message calling her to town? She seemed quite decided about it.—Though I reminded her of the tea.’