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After a moment or two Aunt Rosa appeared without her hat or coat.

“Mrs. West wants me to stay until to-morrow,” she announced. “Please tell your uncle I thought I would, as we come over so seldom. Mr. West is driving our way in the morning, so he’ll bring me back.”

Her thin lips parted in one of their grudging smiles, and between her and Power again there flashed a momentary glance of understanding. Then the horses started off at a rapid trot and Pamela was left to face another long drive with Power as her sole companion.

Well, it was most uncomfortable and annoying, but obviously he was not to blame. This was Aunt Rosa’s doing, and Pamela could not help wondering if she had meant to be disagreeable. Surely she had seen enough to know that of all things Pamela would have wished to avoid this. She sat silent, devoutly hoping that Power would not insist on talking. He said nothing for a long time. The road was level; there was a fresh breeze blowing, and no sound but the rapid beat of the horses’ hoofs on the hard ground. When at last he did speak Pamela gave an involuntary start, much to her annoyance, but her nerves were all on edge by now. There was nothing in what he said, but there was a tenseness in his tone which seemed to turn his casual statement into something quite different—was it threat or triumph?

“I don’t understand, I don’t understand,” said Pamela’s fluttering heart; and again she heard the knocking of that formless fear.

They had driven for an hour and a half, only exchanging a few words occasionally. It was dusk, and Pamela strained her eyes for familiar landmarks which would mean they were nearing home. Presently they turned into rather a rough lane, overhung by trees. Strange! she could not remember this at all—how far from home was it?