w the form. Her resolutions, taken in the
presence of Owen, did not fail her now. She hoped and prayed that it
might not be one who had stolen her heart away, and still kept it. Why
should he have reappeared at all, when he had declared that he went out
of her sight for ever?

She hastily hid herself, in the lowest corner of the garden close to the
river. A large dead tree, thickly robed in ivy, had been considerably
depressed by its icy load of the morning, and hung low over the stream,
which here ran slow and deep. The tree screened her from the eyes of any
passer on the other side.

She waited timidly, and her timidity increased. She would not allow
herself to see him--she would hear him pass, and then look to see if it
had been Edward.

But, before she heard anything, she became aware of an object reflected
in the water from under the tree which hung over the river in such a way
that, though hiding the actual path, and objects upon it, it permitted
their reflected images to pass beneath its boughs. The reflected form
was that of the man she had seen further off, but being inverted, she
could not definitely characterize him.

He was looking at the upper windows of the House--at hers--was it
Edward, indeed? If so, he was probably thinking he would like to say
one parting word. He came closer, gazed into the stream, and walked very
slowly. She was almost certain that it was Edward. She kept more safely
hidden. Conscience told her that she ought not to see him. But she
suddenly asked herself a question: 'Can it be possible that he sees my
reflected image, as I see his? Of course he does!'

He was looking at her in the water.

She could not help herself now. She stepped forward just as he emerged
from the other side of the tree and appeared erect before her. It was
Edward Springrove--till the inverted vision met his eye, dreaming no
more of seeing his Cytherea there than of seeing the dead themselves.

'Cytherea!'

'Mr. Springrove,' she returned, in a low voice, across the stream.

He was the first to speak again.

'Since we have met, I want to tell you something, before we become quite
as strangers to each other.'

'No--not now--I did not mean to speak--it is not right, Edward.' She
spoke hurriedly and turned away from him, beating the air with her hand.

'Not one common word of explanation?' he implored. 'Don't think I am bad
enough to try to lead you astray. Well, go--it is better.'

Their eyes met aga