CHAPTER XIIJean was left alone to make tea by herself in the vast shadowy hall. A procession of scones and cakes were piled high on the old Worcester china; the kettle boiled serenely above a small blue flame. The two setters lay like patches of bracken at her feet. The outlines of the furniture became darker and less solid; only the eyes of Reggie's ancestors pierced the dark with their intent and speechless recognition.
Jean was glad to know what Mrs. Meadows thought; if she wanted support to make up her mind to leave Windlestraws, she had been given it. She had stayed long enough to keep her promise to Ian, and to restore Reggie's self-respect. Her mind was free to go--if her heart would let her? It wasn't any use trying to bully her heart. She knew that she was going to stay. No doubt
