“It may be the doctor,” she said brightly, as she left the bedroom.  The coward in her wanted it to be the doctor.  But, descending the stairs, she could see plainly through the glass that Louis himself was at the front door.  The Rachel that feared was instantly uppermost in her.  She was conscious of dread.  From the breathless sinking within her bosom the stairs might have been the deck of a steamer pitching in a heavy sea.

She thought—­

“Here is the Louis to whom I am indifferent.  There is nothing between us, really.  But shall I have strength to open the door to him?”

She opened the door, with the feeling that the act was tremendous and irrevocable.

The street, in the Sabbatic sunshine, was as calm as at midnight.  Louis Fores, stiff and constrained, stood strangely against the background of it.  The unusualness of his demeanour, which was plain to the merest glance, increased Rachel’s agitation.  It appeared to Rachel that the two of them faced each other like wary enemies.  She tried to examine his face in the light of Mrs. Maldon’s warning, as though it were the face of a stranger; but without much success.

“Is auntie well enough for me to see her?” asked Louis, without greeting or preliminary of any sort.  His voice was imperfectly under control.

Rachel replied curtly—­

“I dare say she is.”

To herself she said—­

“Of course if he’s going to sulk about last night—­well, he must sulk.  Really and truly he got much less than he deserved.  He had no business at all to have suggested me going to the cinematograph with him.  The longer he sulks the better I shall be pleased.”

And in fact she was relieved at his sullenness.  She tossed her proud head, but with primness.  And she fervently credited to the full Mrs. Maldon’s solemn insinuations against the disturber.

Louis hesitated a second, then stepped in.  Rachel marched processionally upstairs, and with the detachment of a footman announced to Mrs. Maldon that Mr. Fores waited below.  “Oh, please bring him up,” said Mrs. Maldon, with a mild and casual benevolence that surprised the girl; for Rachel, in the righteous ferocity of her years, vaguely thought that an adverse moral verdict ought to be swiftly followed by something in the nature of annihilation.

“Will you please come up,” she invited Louis, from the head of the stairs, adding privately—­“I can be as stiff as you can—­and stiffer.  How mistaken I was in you!”

She preceded him into the bedroom, and then with ostentatious formality left aunt and nephew together.  Nobody should ever say any more that she encouraged the attentions of Louis Fores.

“What is the matter, dear?” Mrs. Maldon inquired from her bed, perceiving the signs of emotion on Louis’ face.

“Has Mr. Batchgrew been here yet?” Louis demanded.

“No.  Is he coming?”

“Yes, he’s just been to my digs.  Came in his car.  Auntie, do you know that he’s accusing me of stealing your money—­and—­and—­all sorts of things!  I don’t want to hide anything from you.  It’s true I was with Rachel at the cinematograph last night, but—­”