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I would rather not repeat, really.'

      'Well, I only know Caroline says she's heard it said over and over again that you ran away in despair, because you found that Mr Dallas and Lilian were untrue to you,' said Marian, less scrupulous about repeating than the other.

      'That is really too ridiculous!' I ejaculated. – 'But you will be able to tell your friend or friends that you did not see a love-lorn damsel to-day, Mrs Chichester;' gazing at her with steady calm eyes.

      'You certainly don't look a bit love-lorn,' candidly said Marian.

      'O no,' chimed in Mrs Chichester. 'If you will pardon the jest, I might say you looked a great deal more as though you had found a lover, than lost one!' with a meaning glance in Robert Wentworth's direction.

      'Will you excuse my asking if you had that dress direct from Paris, Miss Haddon?' inquired Marian.

      'Paris? No; it came from Madame Michaux,' I replied, happily recollecting that Jane had mentioned that name.

      'Oh, that is the same thing; isn't it? She charges enormously; but one is quite sure of having just the right thing from her. I suppose you have all your dresses from her now?'

      'No; not all,' I said, smiling at the remembrance of my every-day attire.

      'They say brown is to be the new colour: the Duchess of Meck – Meck – (What's her name, Caroline? those German names are so absurd) – is wearing nothing else but brown at Homburg.'

      'I have been wearing brown some time,' I replied, almost laughing outright.

      'Some people always contrive to be in advance of the fashions,' she said a little disconcertedly. – 'Are they going away already, Caroline; just inquire if the carriage is there, will you? – I see you have drab liveries, Miss Haddon; ours is changed to claret; the Marchioness of' – Breaking off to make a reply to a few words from the little bride's-maids, who with their father were taking themselves off from the uncongenial atmosphere. 'O yes; went off very nicely indeed; did it not? I wanted them to have the breakfast at Fairview, or at anyrate to have two or three of the men-servants to wait. But the party is small certainly, and everything has been very well contrived. No one is inclined to be very critical at such times. I hope you will be able to come down to Fairview before you return to Cornwall; any time which may suit you best. You need not write; we are always prepared for visitors.'

      Both sisters hurriedly explained that their stay in town would be very short, and that there was not the slightest chance of their having a spare day.

      Then there was one other little trial of my nerves – the few words which had to be spoken to Mr and Mrs Dallas; but pride came to my assistance, and I got through it pretty well, bearing their curious looks and gracious speeches with at anyrate apparent stoicism. Under other circumstances, I might have been somewhat amused by Mr Dallas's remark, that for his part he wished I had not thrown Philip over; accompanied as it was by a comprehensive glance at 'my carriage' waiting in the road below.

      As soon as they left, I felt at liberty to whisper a loving good-bye to dear old Mrs Tipper, with a promise to see her and clear up all mysteries on the morrow, and take my departure. In a matter-of-course way, Robert Wentworth walked with me down the path, talking in the old pleasant easy fashion until he had put me into the carriage. Then just as I was bending forward to say the one word 'Home,' he gave the order 'Greybrook Hall.'

      'Wait, John.'

      The man stood aside; and I added to Robert Wentworth: 'You know then?'

      'Of course I know,' he replied with a quiet smile.

      I shrank back. He made a gesture to the footman, gave me the orthodox bow, and I was driven away.

      Not a little agitated, I asked myself how much more did he know – all? If he recognised me that night in the wood, he did know not only what I had done, but what it had cost me to do it! I was no heroine; I have shewn myself as I was on Philip's wedding-day; but I had not won my peace without many a weary struggle for it. Once – three months after my departure from the cottage – I had stolen down in the darkness of evening to watch the shadows on the blinds, and perhaps catch the sound of a voice still so terribly dear to me. I saw Philip and Lilian together, and recognised that they were lovers, and then I knew that the victory was not yet won.

      An hour later some one stooped over me as I lay crouched in the woods. 'Are you ill? What is the matter with you, good woman?' said the familiar voice of Robert Wentworth, as he laid his hand upon my shoulder. 'It is bad for you to be lying here this damp night.'

      I shrank away, drawing the hood of my cloak more closely round my face, which I kept turned away. He stood still a few moments, and then without another word passed on. I had hitherto always persuaded myself that he had not recognised me; but now my cheeks grew uncomfortably hot with the suspicion that he did know me, and that the passing silently on was the very thing which a delicate consideration for me would prompt him to do. I was only surprised that it had not occurred to me before. I never had succeeded in throwing dust into Robert Wentworth's eyes when I had tried so to do. I knew now that it was to him Jane Osborne had alluded when she jested about a certain friend of hers who was so interested in all that concerned me, and whom I was to know more about by-and-by. I had sometimes a little murmured in my heart at having to give up Robert Wentworth's friendship with other things, knowing the worth of it, and he had been watching over me all the time! He had traced me at once; but respecting my desire to be lost to them all for a time, he had not obtruded himself upon me, contenting himself with obtaining an introduction to Jane Osborne and making friends with her.

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