"That is what has brought you here?"
"Yes."
A flash of bitter disappointment pierced her. He had not sought her out because he must set eyes on her, but for Eden's sake. She said: "I cannot see him."
"Oh, but I think you will. You couldn't refuse."
He sat doggedly smoking, endeavouring to override her opposition, she felt, by his taciturn tyranny.
She murmured: "It will be a difficult scene for me."
He replied: "There will not necessarily be a scene. Why should women always expect scenes?"
"Perhaps I learned to expect them in your family," she retorted.
He showed his teeth in the Court grin, which, subsiding, left his face again dogged.
"You will come, Alayne," he said. "You can scarcely refuse to see him for five minutes."
"Do you know," she said, "I believe I guess what he wants. He is frightened about himself and he wants me to look after him—nurse him back to health!"
"That may be," Renny replied, imperturbably. "At all events he absolutely refuses to have a trained nurse. I don't know how Aunt Augusta and Mrs. Wragge will make out with him. Uncle Ernest suggested old Mrs. Patch, and Finch said at once that she ought to know something of nursing consumption, as she had buried three of her own with it!"
He looked shrewdly into her eyes to read the effect of his words there, and saw dismay, even horror.
"Mrs. Wragge—Mrs. Patch," she repeated. "They would be the end of him!" Her mind flew to the scene of Jalna. She saw Eden, beautiful Eden, lying on a bed, neglected by Mrs. Wragge or Mrs. Patch. Another thought struck her. "He should not be in the house with the boys—Wakefield, Finch. It would be dangerous."
"I had thought of that," said Renny, "and I have an idea. You remember Fiddler's Hut?"
Was she likely to forget it? "Yes, I remember."
"Very well. Early this spring I had it cleaned up, painted, made quite decent for a Scotch couple who were
