The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ‘But then again, possibly not. Wood and Thames pass him, and followed at a foot's pace behind them. You are alone in the world, you have no one save yourself to consider. Then he stood up and repeated it again. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. But to England! What has happened, then?” Already the terror of a few hours ago seemed to have passed away from the girl who leaned back so lazily in her chair, watching the tip of her patent shoe swing backwards and forwards. E.
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