“When you’re feeling better, we’ll have a talk,” he said.

She hid her face with a piteous gesture against his knee.  “I don’t see—­the good of talking,” she said, in muffled accents.  “It can’t make things—­any better.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” he said.  “Anyhow we can’t leave things as they are.  You will admit that.”

Dinah was silent.

He went on with the utmost gentleness.  “I want to get you away from here.  Isabel is going down to Heath-on-Sea and she wants you to come too.  It’s a tiny place.  We have a cottage there with the most wonderful garden for flowers you ever saw.  It isn’t more than thirty yards square, and there is a cliff path down to the beach.  Isabel loves the place.  The yacht is there too, and we go for cruises on calm days.  I am hoping Isabel may pick up a little there, and she is always more herself when you are with her.  You won’t disappoint her, will you?”

A great-shiver went through Dinah.  “I can’t come,” she said, almost under her breath.  “It just—­isn’t possible.”

“What is there to prevent?” he asked.

She moved a little, and lifted her head from its resting-place.  “Ever so many things,” she said.

“You are thinking of Eustace?” he questioned.  “He has gone already—­gone to town.  He will probably go abroad; but in any case he will not get in your way.”

“I wasn’t thinking of him,” Dinah said.

“Then of what?” he questioned.  “Your mother?  I will see her, and make that all right.”

She started and lifted her face.  “Oh no!  Oh no!  You must never dream of doing that!” she declared, with sudden fevered urgency.  “I couldn’t bear you to see her.  You mustn’t think of it, indeed—­indeed!  Why I would even—­even sooner go back myself.”

“Then I must write to her,” he said, gently ceding the point.  “It is not essential that I should see her.  Possibly even, a letter would be preferable.”

Dinah’s face had flushed fiery red.  She did not meet his eyes.  “I don’t see why you should have anything to do with her,” she said.  “You would never get her to consent.”

“Then I propose that we act first,” said Scott.  “Isabel is leaving to-day.  You can join her at Great Mallowes and go on together.  I shall follow in a couple of days.  There are several matters to be attended to first.  But Isabel and Biddy will take care of you.  Come, my dear, you won’t dislike that so very badly!”

“Dislike it!” Dinah caught back another sob.  “I should love it above all things if it were possible.  But it isn’t—­it isn’t.”

“Why not?” he questioned.  “Surely your father would not raise any objection?”

She shook her head.  “No—­no!  He doesn’t care what happens to me.  I used to think he did; but he doesn’t—­he doesn’t.”

“Then what is the difficulty?” asked Scott.

She was silent, and he saw the hot colour spreading over her neck as she turned her face away.