Norwegian trip. But my call to the West is imperative, and
must be obeyed. So, dear, let us bear our disappointment as
best we can, for I hope it is one to you as well as to me, and
look forward to a joyful reunion in this city next autumn."

The epistle, of which the above is but a fragment, not only caused
Miss Bonnifay to utter an impatient exclamation as she read it, but
also led to complications.

Feeling that, with Peveril safely across the Atlantic, there might be
some hope for him, Owen had reconsidered his determination not to go
to Norway, and had written from Oxford, offering to escort the ladies
on that trip. His letter reached them in company with that from
Peveril announcing that he too would shortly be with them. Thereupon
Mrs. Bonnifay replied to Owen that, while they should be delighted to
have him join their party, he must not inconvenience himself to do so,
as Mr. Peveril's business was in such shape that he would be able to
carry out his original intention of accompanying them.

Then came Peveril's second letter, stating that he could not leave
America, after all, and the elder lady hurriedly penned the following
note:

"MY DEAR MR. OWEN:

"We are so glad that you can accompany us to Norway, the more
so that Mr. Peveril will, after all, be prevented from so
doing. He has just written that business of the utmost
importance, connected with an immensely valuable mine that he
owns somewhere in the West, will prevent his leaving America
this summer. Of course he is in despair, and all that, while we
are awfully sorry for him, but we shall not allow our grief to
interfere in the least with the pleasure we are anticipating
from a trip to Norway under your escort. Hoping, then, to see
you here very soon,

"I remain," etc., etc.

Quickly as this letter followed its immediate predecessor, it arrived
too late to accomplish its purpose; for, on the very day that he
received it, Owen had cabled his acceptance of a position offered him
in the United States and procured his ticket for New York.

"Was ever a man so cursed by fate!" he cried, as he finished reading
Mrs. Bonnifay's note; "or, rather, by the stupidity of a blundering
idiot! I don't believe Dick Peveril cares a rap for the girl; if he
did, he would not desert her on any such flimsy pretext. The idea of
his having business with a mine! He never did have any business, and