"She was turned out of it. It's the old story of the brother's wife supplanting the sister. Poor Frances has not much to live upon. She has taken a small house in Kensington, and asked me the other day, if I knew any girls or students who would like to board with her. She's just the sort of a person for a troublesome granddaughter. Cheery and sensible and not too prim. So when you tackle the irate grandfather, tell him she will uphold his authority through thick and thin. Frances always was a most uncomfortably conscientious person!"
Colonel Douglas smiled.
"She always had a knack of getting people to do the right thing, I remember. Well, it will be good for both, I believe, if we can bring them together. The grandfather is the chief obstacle at present."
And it was of her grandfather that Jean was thinking as she was whirled away in the train. She wondered if she should get home before he did, and whether the old servants had been perturbed at her absence. She had made her escape very quietly, putting a note on her grandfather's writing-table in the library. But she had taken no one into her confidence, and now as she realised the frustration of all her schemes she was glad she had not done so.
"It is dreadful going back! I wish I had not given in, but that Colonel Douglas is so determined, I felt I could not resist him. And I think it would have been just as dreadful staying on in London. I couldn't have done it, for I should not have had enough money. It was a mad idea! Thinking over it calmly now, I was silly to imagine it would turn out all right. I might have known it would be difficult—impossible to change one's life and slip into another so easily. How am I to meet grandfather? What can I say! Perhaps I may not have to tell him. And yet I must. I can't deceive!"
This was the substance of her thoughts. She felt very small as she alighted at the country station, and refusing the offer of the only fly, tramped sturdily along the flat highroad towards home. She could hardly believe it was only the day before that she had left it—as she thought then for ever—and as she gazed about on all the familiar landmarks she exclaimed—
"I do believe I am glad to see it again. That London seems a nightmare!"
Elsie met her at the hall door with a little scream of delight.
"Oh, Miss Jean, whatever have you been a-doing! We have been in such a state of fright about you. Rawlings had a telegram first thing this mornin' from his sister to say you were with her, but for pity's sake, don't be playing no such tricks agen. Master isn't back, but he's comin' to-night. He has stopped to dine at Mr. Railton's on his way from the station. What a blessing 'tis to see you agen, and how could you go up by yourself to that awful, wicked London! Why, I've heard awful tales of young girls disappearin' right away from the time they stepped out of the train, and never being heard of no more! Human nature is so shocking in big cities. I'll away to the kitchen to ease Mary's mind, and p'raps you'll tell us what you went for, when you've had some dinner. For you do look dead beat!"
Jean dashed upstairs to her room. Elsie's chatter was unbearable to her.