He left the room. I did not accompany him to the door. Instead I returned to my chair. I did not occupy it long, I could not. I could not sit still. I rose and went out on the lawn. There, in the night mist, I paced up and down, up and down. I had longed to be alone; now that I was alone I was more miserable than ever.
Charlotte, the maid, called to me from the doorway.
“Would you wish the light in the study any longer, sir?” she asked.
“No,” said I, curtly. “You may put it out.”
“And shall I lock up, sir; all but this door, I mean?”
“Yes. Where is Miss Cahoon?”
“She's above, sir. With Miss Morley, I think, sir.”
“Very well, Charlotte. That is all. Good night.”
“Good night, sir.”
She went into the house. The lamp in the study was extinguished. I continued my pacing up and down. Occasionally I glanced at the upper story of the rectory. There was a lighted window there, the window of Frances' room. She and Hephzy were together in that room. What was going on there? What had Hephzy said to her? What—Oh, WHAT would happen next?