The victoria fled swiftly along the pretty country road for some moments without either occupant saying a word. Rona sat as if the falling of the long-expected blow had stunned her. Aunt Bee, watching her set lips and tragic eyes, felt vaguely alarmed.
"Rona," she said, in low tones, almost a whisper, "had you any sort of idea that he was in the neighborhood—before we set out for church?"
The girl hesitated. At last—"I thought I saw him," she said, reluctantly, "at the station the other day, when we went to see Denzil off. A race train came in from Virginia Water, and I turned, glancing idly along the carriage windows, and felt almost sure that I saw his face. I had the idea that he had suddenly risen from his seat, and was looking at me. But at that moment the train moved, and I—I could not be sure. But he must have been sure, and he must have spent all these days searching the neighborhood for me. It was a clever idea to go to church, wasn't it?"
Aunt Bee remained silent for a swift moment or two. Then she turned suddenly, stooping, her lips close to the girl's ear. "Rona—how long shall you take to pack?"
The girl started, a light came into her eyes and color into her cheeks. "For how long?" she rejoined, with bated breath.
"For a journey,—one hardly knows how long. One trunk, a hat-box, a hand-bag."
"Two hours, if there is time. Twenty minutes if there isn't."
"Good girl. I expect we can have our two hours. But I must study a time-table. I see nothing for it but flight, and before he can suspect us of anything of the sort. I cannot deal with him in Denzil's absence."
"No," said Rona, her eyes glowing. "You are simply splendid! Oh, what a relief! I have been so sick with fear. I am not a coward, really, but my nerves cannot bear the sight of him. If you could know the things he recalls! I feel like a thrashed slave when you show her the whip."
Miss Rawson caught her hand and held it tight. "Courage, darling! You know Denzil does not think he can really do much. Of course, it depends a great deal upon the exact terms of your father's will. But even if he is legally your guardian, I don't think he can actually force you to live with him. If he is not, Denzil says we can snap our fingers. But, for all that, I dare not tackle him alone. We must be off, and at once. And nobody must know, not even the servants, that we are going beyond London. I have about fifteen pounds in the house here, and I will write to my bankers, with a check, instructing them to cable out more money to me to Paris, or Brussels, or wherever it is we start from—I'll look out the route."