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356 so boyish. And his eyes—they seemed still to be pouring tenderness and strength upon the other woman—they never saw this one at all.

She stole away, loving him more than ever—but must not the other one too? She had seen the same look—had won it—but his crime made a difference to her. To Peggy it made none: she neither knew nor cared what it was, and there lay her slight advantage. It was too slight. She loved him, but so must the other. Her love lay near to hate; she would see if she could not push the other woman’s nearer yet.

She reached the house, and nobody was in the way. Lady Starkie was writing letters in the breakfast-room. Peggy was soon listening at the other woman’s door—listening to her sobs. She compressed her lips and nodded to herself with splendid confidence. At length there fell a silence, in which Peggy knocked and entered.

“I beg pardon, miss, but was Thomas not in the boat-shed? It’s sorry I am if I sent ye on a fool’s errand—savin’ your presence, miss!”

“No; he was there.”

“An’ did he refuse ye?”

“No—I—changed my mind.”

“Glory be to God, miss. ’Tis meself would let ’m know ’t if he gave any of his sauce to the masther’s lady. I’d have no more to do wid ’m at all!”

Claire turned pale.

“You would have no more to do with him?” said she very slowly. “I don’t understand you.”

“Sure, an’ how would you? He wouldn’t be afther tellin’ a lady like you.”

“Telling me what, my good girl?” She was trembling now.