upon the path
up the hill, but a light was shining from a window in the last-named
house.

Stephen knew there could be no mistake about the time or place, and no
difficulty about keeping the engagement. He waited yet longer, passing
from impatience into a mood which failed to take any account of the
lapse of time. He was awakened from his reverie by Castle Boterel clock.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, TEN.

One little fall of the hammer in addition to the number it had been
sharp pleasure to hear, and what a difference to him!

He left the churchyard on the side opposite to his point of entrance,
and went down the hill. Slowly he drew near the gate of her house. This
he softly opened, and walked up the gravel drive to the door. Here he
paused for several minutes.

At the expiration of that time the murmured speech of a manly voice came
out to his ears through an open window behind the corner of the house.
This was responded to by a clear soft laugh. It was the laugh of
Elfride.

Stephen was conscious of a gnawing pain at his heart. He retreated as he
had come. There are disappointments which wring us, and there are those
which inflict a wound whose mark we bear to our graves. Such are so
keen that no future gratification of the same desire can ever obliterate
them: they become registered as a permanent loss of happiness. Such a
one was Stephen's now: the crowning aureola of the dream had been the
meeting here by stealth; and if Elfride had come to him only ten
minutes after he had turned away, the disappointment would have been
recognizable still.

When the young man reached home he found there a letter which had
arrived in his absence. Believing it to contain some reason for her
non-appearance, yet unable to imagine one that could justify her, he
hastily tore open the envelope.

The paper contained not a word from Elfride. It was the deposit-note for
his two hundred pounds. On the back was the form of a cheque, and this
she had filled up with the same sum, payable to the bearer.

Stephen was confounded. He attempted to divine her motive. Considering
how limited was his knowledge of her later actions, he guessed rather
shrewdly that, between the time of her sending the note in the morning
and the evening's silent refusal of his gift, something had occurred
which had caused a total change in her attitude towards him.

He knew not what to do. It seemed absurd now to go to her father ne