She did not feel as calm as she soundedv In her one glance through the window she had seen that the whole Ferndale party had come. And her heart turned over at sight of Hetherington. It should get easier as time went on to face him calmly, she reasoned as she resumed her sewing. Instead, it was getting worse.

She kept to her seat during the bustle of the new arrivals. Mr. Rowe had met them outside and brought them into the drawing room.

"It seems that we are to lose some of our neighborhood guests," he announced. "Mr. and Mrs. Prosser and Miss Norris are leaving us and have come to say good-bye."

"And very sorry I am to hear it," his wife said, nodding graciously at the three persons indicated. "Do you leave soon?"

"The day after tomorrow," Mrs. Prosser replied, and proceeded to seat herself close to Mrs. Rowe.

Elizabeth had looked up to find Mr. Mainwaring smiling warmly at her. She returned the smile and lowered her head to her work again.

"Miss Rossiter," Mr. Rowe said, walking across to her and putting his hand into a pocket, "I picked up this letter of yours with my bundle this morning and have been meaning to find you out with it ever since." He handed her a letter.

Elizabeth looked at the direction and smiled. "It is from my brother," she said, smiling up at him. "Will you excuse me, sir, while I walk into the garden to read it?"

He nodded his acquiescence and Elizabeth gathered together her work and left the room. She took her sewing and her workbox to her room and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders before going out into the rose arbor with her letter. Even when she was there, she did not immediately break the seal and read it. She savored the moment and drank in the beauty of the scene around her. She felt that she could breathe again now that she no longer shared a roof with Hetherington. She planned to stay exactly where she was until the visitors left, though she felt she owed the courtesy of a farewell to the Prossers.

She finally broke the seal of her letter and opened it on her knee.

A few minutes later, the people gathered in the drawing room were startled by the appearance of a distraught and wild-eyed young woman who flung back the double doors as if she were making a grand entrance on a stage.

"Goodness me, Miss Rossiter, what has happened?" Mrs. Rowe cried, leaping to her feet.

"Pardon me, ma'am," Elizabeth replied, not even having the presence of mind to call her employer out where she could speak to her in private. "I must go."

"Go? Go where, child?" Mrs. Rowe asked.

"Home," said Elizabeth. "My nephew is very sick. He may be d-dying. Please, I must go at once."

Suddenly Mr. Mainwaring was guiding her to the nearest chair and Mr. Rowe was pressing a glass of something into her cold hand.

"Calm yourself," the latter gentleman said evenly. "Tell us what was in your letter, Miss Rossiter, if you will."

"The child toddled off a few days ago in the rain," she said, staring only at Mr. Rowe. "They all searched but could not find him for all of one night. When they did come upon him, he was already in a high fever. And when my brother wrote me several hours later, he was even worse and like to d-die, the physician said. Ma'am"-she turned in frenzy to Mrs. Rowe-"the mail coach leaves town in a little less than two hours time. I must be on it. It is faster than the stage. And my brother and my sister-in-law will need me. Louise is in delicate health again."

"Yes, yes, my dear," Mrs. Rowe agreed, "you must go. But not on the mail. Mr. Rowe will order out the carriage for you. It will be slower, but a great deal more comfortable and suited to your station."

"No, ma'am," she said, agitated. "I would not inconvenience you. And indeed speed is essential."

Mr. Mainwaring bent over her. "I shall take you, Elizabeth," he said, "in my curricle. It is not comfortable tor a long journey, but it is as fast as any vehicle."

"It would not answer, William," said Mrs. Prosser. "A curricle will accommodate only two persons. And you could not take Miss Rossiter without a chaperone. It really would not do at all. Even with a curricle you would need to spend a night on the road. Your brother lives in Norfolk, does he not, my dear?"

Elizabeth looked up in an agony of frustration, about to say that she did not care a fig for chaperones or the proprieties, provided only that she reach John as soon as was humanly possible. She met the eyes of Hetherington, who was standing across the room, his face white and drawn.

"I shall drive Elizabeth home," he said distinctly now.

Everyone turned in his direction.

"Nonsense, Robert," Amelia Norris said crossly. "None of this is your concern."

"There would still be the need of a chaperone, Robert," Mrs. Prosser said more practically.

"Not with me," he said, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth's. "A woman does not need a chaperone when she travels with her own husband."

The silent attention that was suddenly focused entirely on his person was worthy of any melodrama.

"The lady is my wife," he said quietly, "and has been for six years."

Pandemonium broke loose. Everyone spoke at once. But the central figures were alone in the room. Elizabeth found that she could scarcely breathe. Even the anxiety over John and Jeremy faded for a moment.

"Was," she said. "Was, Robert. I have been youi divorced wife for almost as long."

"Have you?" he said… "That is certainly news to me."

"Beth, this cannot be so, can it?" Cecily was asking, bright spots of color in her cheeks.

"Is this true, Elizabeth?" Mr. Mainwaring was asking.

"Robert, what are you talking about?" Amelia Norris was asking shrilly.

"Well, Cinderella!" Mr. Rowe commented.

"Miss Ross-my wife wishes to leave with all speed," Hetherington said firmly, taking command of the situation and striding across the room toward her. "Go and pack a bag, ma'am. I shall ride to Ferndale and do likewise. I shall be back here with a curricle within the hour. You will get to your brother by noon tomorrow at the latest." He turned, without waiting for her reply, and strode from the room.

There was a stunned silence in the room for a few moments.

"Well, bless my soul," said Mrs. Rowe, "bless my soul."

"Bertha," Amelia Norris said in a brittle voice that sounded close to breaking, "let us leave here at once. I have never been so insulted in my life. Hetherington and a-a governess!" She swept from the room, her back rigid, her head held high, and did not pause to see if her sister was following.

Mrs. Prosser did follow, but she paused beside Elizabeth's chair. "You certainly do not need our presence here to complicate matters, ma'am," she said pleasantly to Mrs. Rowe. She put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "I do hope that you will find all well when you reach home, my dear," she said.

Mr. Prosser bowed to the company and left the room with his wife.

"Come, Anne," Mrs. Claridge said, rising to her feet with obvious reluctance. It was not every day that there was such drama in the neighborhood. "It is time we took our leave, too."

After they had left, Mrs. Rowe turned to Elizabeth.

"Well, bless my soul," she said, "I do not know what to say."

"Then say nothing, my love," her husband suggested. "You can see that Miss Rossiter is in shock. I suggest that you and Cecily take her upstairs and help her pack a bag. Hetherington will be here soon."

"Yes, yes, of course we must," his wife agreed. "But, really, Mr. Rowe, we must call her the Marchioness of Hetherington now. Dear me, and I never even suspected."

"Miss Rossiter has chosen her name," Mr. Rowe answered firmly. "I see no reason why we should call her differently until she asks us to do so."

Elizabeth, on whom her outer surroundings were beginning to penetrate again, shot him a grateful glance and looked up to Mr. Mainwaring, who was standing ashen-faced beside her chair.