CHAPTER XVI.
BETWEEN THE TWO.
Not in the Rectory drawing-room, but in a pretty little sitting-room attached to her bed-chamber, where the temperature was regulated, and no draughts could penetrate, reclined Mrs.Ashton.Her invalid gown sat loosely upon her shrunken form, her delicate, lace cap shaded a fading face.

Anne sat by her side in all her loveliness, ostensibly working; but her fingers trembled, and her face looked flushed and pained.
It was the morning after their return, and Mrs.Graves had called in to see Mrs.Ashton--gossiping Mrs.Graves, who knew all that took place in the parish, and a great deal of what never did take place.

She had just been telling it all unreservedly in her hard way; things that might be said, and things that might as well have been left unsaid.

She went out leaving a whirr and a buzz behind her and an awful sickness of desolation upon one heart.
"Give me my little writing-case, Anne," said Mrs.Ashton, waking up from a reverie and sitting forward on her sofa.
Anne took the pretty toy from the side-table, opened it, and laid it on the table before her mother.
"Is it nothing I can write for you, mamma ?" "No, child." Anne bent her hot face over her work again.

It had not occurred to her that it could concern herself; and Mrs.Ashton wrote a few rapid lines: "My Dear Percival, "Can you spare me a five-minutes' visit?
I wish to speak with you.