Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. And in this fact lay his danger. Lucy had been ignoring her, not purposefully, but noticeably. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. Long ago. Plainly. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. Supposing I made up my mind to marry some one of good enough family, but who was in a somewhat doubtful position, concerning whose antecedents, in fact there was a certain amount of scandal.
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