It was late when the waltz finished. Joanna realized that she must go home. Mildred, who was passing on Valentine Plummer’s arm, told them that Urquhart had gone some time ago. And when she added that he was working at nights for a fellowship, Joanna felt a stab of her vanity. She would have been gratified to think that he had left early on her account. She was relieved however that he had not seen her in the waltz with Pender.

The rain was slashing outside, but she had only to cross the road to be at home. And so great now was her longing for solitude, that she could hardly endure the walk downstairs in Pender’s company, nor his insistence in seeing her to her very door.

“You will get drenched,” she remonstrated, looking at his bare head in the slanting rain; and with a hurried handshake she ran up the steps of her mother’s house and let herself in.

But when the door was shut between them, she bent down to look back at him through the old devil’s beard in the glass. She looked, as long ago she had once looked at her dead father.

Louis was turning away, slowly in spite of the rain.

CHAPTER THREE

I

On Saturday afternoon, according to Mildred’s invitation, Joanna went to Panmure Crescent.

The house, as she entered it, had none of its usual effect upon her, and she passed through the blue and black hall quite absorbed. With what face would he meet her?

But only her hostess and Lawrence Urquhart were in the drawing-room.

“Fancy! Mr. Pender has had to go back to town; isn’t it too sad?” said Mildred as she shook hands.

Joanna, standing there in the middle of the room, felt as if she had been dealt a violent and treacherous blow. It was a wonder to her that she remained erect. But even so, a moment passed before she could admit to herself that anything had happened. “Town” to any Glasgow person means Buchanan Street: and though Joanna perfectly grasped the meaning of the word on Mildred’s lips, she seized on this poor excuse for confusion as a momentary anaesthetic. Only thus could she survive the first shock without betrayal.

Then as the drug wore off she faced the news with gathering strength. He had gone away to London. She was not to see him to-day. She might not ever see him again. She only knew by their shattering how many pictures of meeting she had woven since the parting of the night before. With a costly effort she collected herself now and shook Urquhart’s outstretched hand.