miss west took the letter to the post-office herself after dinner, as she was going to inquire for a pupil who lived near carter hill, and who was sick—unhappy child!—from holiday junketing. miss west could not recover her equanimity till that letter was out of the house. it had shaken her, satirical and discreet though she was. it had also given her a guilty sensation towards miss sandys. she could not endure that even the servants should read the address:—"w. nairne, esq., waterloo lodge, bridgeton, strokeshire," though w. nairne, esq., might have stood for her brother-in-law, her uncle by marriage, or her maternal grandfather for aught they could tell. she held [page 354]her hand over the superscription as if to hide it from herself as she walked along under the newly-risen moon, as it cast its light on a crisp sprinkling of snow. it was true christmas weather at last, and this was something like a christmas adventure for her. but not the less did she wish the christmas ended, and the moon replaced by gas jets of the smallest size. "a pretty story for the girls if they should get hold of it," she thought, and shuddered. she did not recover altogether till she had posted her packet, and walked half a mile further on. at length she passed through a creaking gate and a shrubbery, and was shown up to a smart drawing-room. she was there to ask for the health of miss victoria middlemass, the daughter of a gentleman who led a country gentleman's life on the proceeds of a sleeping partnership in a mercantile house in a large town at some distance.

mrs. middlemass came in hurriedly. she had only time to wish miss west a merry christmas and a good new year, and to announce that vicky was quite herself again, except that the bun fever had left her rather pale, and she had not got back all her appetite. she could not, however, make the same complaint of mr. middlemass, who had just come in ravenously hungry from the train. he had been accompanied by another gentleman, who had been introduced to him before he left the north, and whom mr. middlemass would not allow to go over to the inn at stoneham, where he was to spend a few days with a friend. mr. middlemass and his new acquaintance were still at dinner.

miss west was hurrying away after having discharged [page 355]her commission, in order not to detain mrs. middlemass from her husband and his guest, and not to impose on master or servant the trouble of seeing her home.

but as they were exchanging smothered good-byes near the open dining-room door, mr. middlemass, who was frank and hospitable, broke through the clatter of knives and forks, and called out unceremoniously, "my dear, who is that you are taking leave of?"

"it is only miss west, my dear," his wife replied softly to quiet him.

"miss west!" and he banged from his seat and bounced to the door. "miss west! the very woman in the nick of time. stay, miss west, and thank your stars; here's an old friend come a long way to see you."

miss west turned, and there, behind the cordial face of the master of the house, who suspected nothing, and was only happy to be helpful to a brother merchant, were the perfectly recognizable lineaments of that old personable fellow, bill nairne.

miss west for a second fancied that the letter she had posted to him ten minutes before had sped like a telegram to its destination, and that he had sped back on the telegraphic wires to remonstrate with her and expose her. the next instant she was sensible that the accident of his being there in person must be a result of a previous change of mind on his part.

bill nairne had stared, and stammered in mechanical accents, after mr. middlemass supplied him with the keynote, "miss west, the very person, let us thank our stars!" but he soon recovered himself, and then shook [page 356]her hand warmly, and declared, in his old, off-hand manner, "i shall see you home, miss west;" for miss west had no sooner recovered her breath and her small share of colour, than she combated mr. middlemass's pressing invitation to remain and spend the evening with them. no; miss sandys was expecting her; she thanked him and mrs. middlemass, but she could not stay on any account, so that there would be no use in sending over a message or a note to carter hill. neither was it on miss west's cards that bill nairne should escort her to carter hill, or, indeed, that she should have any escort at all. "do not think of such a thing; i could not allow it." mrs. middlemass came to miss west's aid, and alleged in her ignorance, "there is no occasion for it, mr. nairne; it is only a step to carter hill, and miss west is accustomed to walk across after dinner, when miss sandys has a message for us. remember, we are very quiet people here compared to what you are in the north. besides, if miss west is timid, i can manage to send a servant, or," she went on with greater hesitation, "mr. middlemass will be delighted to go, he knows the way; but you must not put yourself about on any consideration."

miss west rather indignantly denied being timid, timidity being out of her rôle, and then she judged prematurely that the matter was settled. she had got so accustomed to order about girls that she had fallen into the bad habit of expecting that her will should be law to all the world, with the exception of miss sandys. as for mr. and mrs. middlemass, they at least knew that she could take care of herself.

i[page 357]t was another shock to miss west, another tumultuous, inopportune return to the experience of half a score years back, to find that she could no more dictate to bill nairne on this small matter than she could have done it as mad of the old days.

"say no more about it, miss west. i'll go home with you, of course." bill thus put her down with an intrepidity, if anything, increased with his increased weight physically and commercially.

this completely confounded miss west, and made a greater muddle of her former and her present identities than had yet been effected.

"i'll see miss west home, and we'll have a talk together of our old friendship as we walk along," bill maintained with the confident coolness of power, towards the self-contained, self-sustained teacher.

it was something unprecedented for miss west to be walking to carter hill on a man's arm, an old friend's arm. she felt an odd sensation stealing over her as if she were no longer able to take care of herself, as if she were no longer herself, her late self, at all; and the moon helped the illusion.

silence descended on miss west and bill nairne, after the first forced commonplaces. he glanced furtively at her, and lost his confidence and coolness, and hung his head—the respectable prosperous merchant!—but not at what he saw. what did she see? nothing but that the sword had worn the scabbard. mad had been true to herself. mad could not have been otherwise than true, as he had written. but the consciousness of what mad [page 358]would see when she lifted up her eyes and looked him in the face made him droop his head. he had got a glimpse of it that morning, when, as the thought of mad grew more and more vivid in his mind, he saw something reflected in the glass which did not necessarily belong to bodily maturity. the conviction returned to him with fresh, poignant regret, in the peaceful hush and subdued splendour of the winter night. there were lines in his face which mad should never have seen there, without which he would have been nearer heaven. there were hard, unbelieving lines, supercilious lines, self-indulgent lines, lines of the earth, earthy, corresponding to hard and gross lines in the spirit within. the respectable, prosperous merchant, had fallen from his original level. he had not attained to the chivalrous, christian manhood which he had the prospect of when he was mad's promising lover. he had lowered his standard, forsaken his principles, lost his faith a few times since then. the gulf between mad and him was wider now. he felt this walking on the moonlight december night by mad's side again.

it was in a somewhat different tone from that of his letter that bill nairne said at last, "mad, will you have the worst of me? will you do something for me and mine after all? i might have been another man if i had got you long ago, mad."

"would you have been a better and a happier man, bill? could i do anything for you yet? answer me truly," she said, hurriedly heaping the self-forgetful, quivering sentences one upon another.

[page 359]"anything!" exclaimed big bill nairne with intense conviction and hyperbole, more excusable than his old prudence and fickleness, "anything! mad, you could do everything with me, and with little bill and bob. we should no longer be egotistical and frivolous, with you to keep us right, you good, single-hearted mad."

miss sandys was entitled to say, "you have come out this christmas, miss west. i shan't allow my assistant to be taken off her satirical staid feet another christmas. i'll lock the next one up for the holidays. it is all those holidays; you would never have thought of such foolish things had you been busy teaching. i'll lock the next one up, or i'll send her to her friends, who will live, i trust, in some peaceful valley, where there are no old acquaintances, or for that matter, men of any kind. i shall, indeed, miss west, for i hate changes." miss sandys had not to dread changes much longer. a sister of miss west came and supplied her place, and lived so long with miss sandys that she closed her superior's eyes like a dutiful daughter, and succeeded to the goodwill of carter hill school.