"She has flown up stairs," replied the widow. "There he is!" cried Winifred, starting up, joyfully, and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were dwelling upon one subject only. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. ‘You see, I had another reason for visiting your grandfather. This amazing world she had set forth to discover! Yesterday at this time she had had no thought in her head about Canton. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly.
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