or all that was known of him. There should, thought Arthur
Fletcher to himself, be more stability in the giving and taking
of wives than could be reckoned upon here. He became old in that
half-hour, taking home to himself and appreciating many saws of
wisdom and finger-directions of experience which hitherto had been
to him matters almost of ridicule. But he could only come to this
conclusion,--that as she was still to be to him his holy of holies
though he might not lay his hand upon the altar, his fountain though
he might not drink of it, the one image which alone could have filled
that nook, he would not cease to regard her happiness when she should
have become the wife of this stranger. With the stranger himself he
never could be on friendly terms;--but for the stranger's wife there
should always be a friend, if the friend were needed.

About an hour before lunch, John Fletcher, who had been hanging about
the house all the morning in a manner very unusual to him, caught
Emily Wharton as she was passing through the hall, and told her that
Arthur was in a certain part of the grounds and wished to speak to
her. "Alone?" she asked. "Yes, certainly alone." "Ought I to go to
him, John?" she asked again. "Certainly I think you ought." Then he
had done his commission and was able to apply himself to whatever
business he had on hand.

Emily at once put on her hat, took her parasol, and left the house.
There was something distasteful to her in the idea of this going out
at a lover's bidding, to meet him; but like all Whartons and all
Fletchers, she trusted John Fletcher. And then she was aware that
there were circumstances which might make such a meeting as this
serviceable. She knew nothing of what had taken place during the last
four-and-twenty hours. She had no idea that in consequence of words
spoken to him by her father and his brother, Arthur Fletcher was
about to abandon his suit. There would have been no doubt about her
going to meet him had she thought this. She supposed that she would
have to hear again the old story. If so, she would hear it, and
would then have an opportunity of telling him that her heart had
been given entirely to another. She knew all that she owed to him.
After a fashion she did love him. He was entitled to all kindest
consideration from her hands. But he should be told the truth.

As she entered the shrubbery he came out to meet her, giving her his
hand with a frank, easy air and a pleasant