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mind.
    â€˜Oh, but think of all those whom He does not save!’
    Ebenezer Bristow gave up. Whatever his private thoughts about the man before him, he must not forget that he was offering the Salvation Army a splendid prize.
    Cobie saw that Bristow was struggling with his principles. Self-disgust overwhelmed him. It was brutally unfairto taunt a man who had dedicated his life to serving others, particularly when he, Cobie, was dedicated to serving no one but himself.
    For the life of him he could not explain the impulse which had led him to snatch from the feral clutches of Sir Ratcliffe Heneage the child who was now being cared for in the other room. Once he had done so, could he live with the knowledge of what was happening in the upper rooms of Madame Louise’s splendid house?
    For no reason at all he shivered, shook himself, pulled out his magnificent gold watch, and snapped it open.
    â€˜The hour grows late, I must leave you. Remember, my man will be here tomorrow, so be ready for him. Goodnight to you, sir.’
    He turned on his heel and prepared to take his arrogant splendours away with him.
    Captain Bristow, possessed by he knew not what, said to Cobie’s retreating back. ‘I bid you have a care, Mr Dilley. Those who fly too near the sun may have their wings burned away. God is not mocked.’
    Cobie swung his head round, showed the Captain his splendid teeth, and said softly, ‘Oh, no, Captain, I never thought he was.’
    Â 
    Moorings Halt was exactly as Dinah remembered it: warm in the early afternoon sun, its flower-beds flaming below the enamel notices advertising Mazawattee tea and Swan Ink. The station cat was curled up on one of the green-painted benches. Sanders, the porter, sat in his little sentry-box.
    He rose and helped Dinah and her maid, Pearson, to lift her luggage on to the station platform.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Lady Dinah, but we didn’t know that youwere coming and the Big House hasn’t sent the dog-cart for you.’
    â€˜Oh, I’ll wait here, Sanders. It’s a splendid afternoon for sitting in the sun, isn’t it. I’m sure that it will be along soon.’
    She wasn’t sure at all, but some twenty minutes later, thank goodness, the dog-cart arrived with one of the grooms driving it.
    â€˜So sorry, Lady Dinah, but m’lady forgot to tell the stables that you were arriving this afternoon. We have an American gentleman with us, though, and it seems that he found out that you might be stranded at The Halt, so he arranged for me to come.’
    It was just like Violet to have forgotten her—and how strange to be rescued by an American gentleman! Dinah wondered who in the world he might be. She knew that a number of rich Americans had been taken up by society. They were usually middle-aged or elderly. Perhaps he had been feeling fatherly enough to make up for Violet’s carelessness in leaving her eighteen-year-old sister stranded in the middle of nowhere. She must be sure to thank him prettily when she met him.
    Not surprisingly, there was no Violet to greet her when she finally reached Moorings. Mrs Greaves, the housekeeper, informed her that Lady Kenilworth had been called away suddenly, and in the rush had forgotten to notify anyone that Lady Dinah was due to arrive that afternoon.
    Fortunately, she had told the American gentleman, Mr Grant, who had arrived before the rest of the house-party, that Dinah was expected and he had immediately arranged for her to be collected when he had discovered m’lady’s oversight.
    There had been something odd in Mrs Greaves’s expression when she had spoken of Mr Grant. Could he be one of Violet’s admirers? Surely not—she preferred young and handsome men.
    Chesterman, the butler, arrived to say, ‘You would like some tea after your journey, I am sure, Lady Dinah, before you change out of your travelling costume. May I express my regret for the oversight. Mr Grant was