’Certainly I am!  But one has to give occasional sops to the domestic tyrant.’

They sauntered back to tea in Hester’s garden by the river, and there the talk of her three guests was more equal and unfettered, more of a real interchange, than Hester ever remembered it.  Of old, Farrell had been the guardian and teacher, indoctrinating Nelly with his own views on art, reading to her from his favourite poets, or surrounding her in a hundred small matters with a playful and devoted homage.  But now in the long wrestle with her grief and remorse, she had thought, as well as felt.  She was as humble and simple as ever, but her companions realised that she was standing on her own feet.  And this something new in her—­which was nothing but a strengthened play of intelligence and will—­had a curious effect on Farrell.  It seemed to bring him out, also; so that the nobler aspects of his life, and the nobler proportions of his character shewed themselves, unconsciously.  Hester, with anxious joy, guessed at the beginnings of a new moral relation, a true comradeship, between himself and Nelly, such as there had never yet been—­which might go far.  It masked the depths in both of them; or rather it was a first bridge thrown over the chasm between them.  What would come of it?

Again she rebuked herself even for the question.  But when the time for departure came, and Nelly took Cicely into the house to fetch the wraps which had been left there, Farrell drew his chair close to Hester’s.  She read agitation in his look.

’So she’s actually going to take up this new nursing?  She says she is to have six months’ training.’

‘Yes—­don’t grudge it her!’

Farrell was silent a moment, then broke out—­’Did you ever see anything so small and transparent as her hands are?  I was watching them as she sat there.’

‘But they’re capable!’ laughed Hester.  ’You should hear what her matron says of her.’

Farrell sighed.

‘How much weight has she lost?’

’Not more—­as yet—­than she can stand.  There’s an intense life in her—­a spiritual life—­that seems to keep her going.’

‘Hester—­dear Hester—­watch over her!’

He put out a hand and grasped his cousin’s.

‘Yes, you may trust me.’

‘Hester!—­do you believe there’ll ever be any hope for me?’

‘It’s unkind even to think of it yet,’ she said gravely.

He drew himself up, recovering self-control.

’I know—­I know.  I hope I’m not quite a fool!  And indeed it’s better than I thought.  She’s not going to banish me altogether.  When this new hospital’s open—­in another month or so—­and she’s settled there—­she asks me to call upon her.  She wants me to go into this man’s treatment.’  There was a touch of comedy in the words; but the emotion in his face was painful to see.

‘Good!’ said Hester, smiling.

When the guests were gone, Nelly came slowly back to Hester from the garden gate.  Her hands were loosely clasped before her, her eyes on the ground.  When she reached Hester she looked up and Hester saw that her eyes were full of tears.