“Yes, I’m learning,” she said. “It’s a slow business. A year ago I should have said that I loved the sea.”

“I know you would. You’re getting on, Elizabeth. What about a farm-house in the country?”

Her face lit up.

“Oh—I think I should like that! Only—it’s rather difficult. You see I wouldn’t go away with Aunt Anne when she asked me.”

“Certainly not. She’s the last person in the world you want. Go by yourself. Will you?”

“Do you know of a farm-house that would take me in?”

“Yes, and I’ll make all the arrangements.” He rose and laid a clumsy hand on her shoulder. “Go and fight out your battles alone, Elizabeth. I’ve hope of you yet.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Miss Arden’s indignation when it was made known to her that Elizabeth contemplated a change of air, alone, knew no bounds. Elizabeth felt herself to be unkind and ungracious, but she could not bear the thought of taking Miss Arden with her. In this she was supported by Lawrence, who said very aggrievedly that of course it didn’t matter what became of him, but if Elizabeth was going to drag her aunt away he would be made exceedingly uncomfortable, and would probably have to live at his club. However, he said, he was accustomed to having his convenience disregarded, and heaven knew that he was not so selfish that he would expect Anne to deny herself anything for his sake. He begged her not to consider him in the slightest; no doubt Elizabeth’s need of her was greater than his, although Elizabeth had not consulted either of them when she made this new, and really rather unnecessary plan.

He wore a martyr-like expression for some days, awaiting Miss Arden’s decision, and frequently implored her to please herself. Then another idea occurred to him, and he remarked that it was most unreasonable of Elizabeth to want her aunt to accompany her to such an out-of-the-way hole as Wood End. He told Miss Arden that there was no need for her to sacrifice her comforts and enjoyment for Elizabeth. She would not like to be buried in the heart of the country at this time of the year; it was sure to be damp, and everyone knew that the autumn was a dangerous season. In fact, speaking perfectly dispassionately, he strongly advised Anne to remain at home. A nice thing it would be if she caught cold in an old-fashioned and draughty farm-house.

So Elizabeth went to Wood End alone and stayed there for a month, until October’s red and gold gave place to November’s sullen grey.