n, suddenly laughed as if at some
jest between them, and resumed his lively strain of talk. Monica also
laughed. An interval of make-believe, and again the soft murmur fell
upon her ear.

'I shall expect you. I know you won't refuse me this one last kindness.
Some day,' his voice was all but extinguished, 'some day--who knows?'

Dreadful hope struck through her. A stranger's eyes turned their way,
and again she laughed.

'On Friday, at four. I shall expect you.'

She rose, looked for an instant about the room, then offered him her
hand, uttering some commonplace word of leave-taking. Their eyes did
not meet. She went up to Mrs. Cosgrove, and as soon as possible left
the house.

Widdowson met her as she crossed the threshold of home. His face told
her that something extraordinary had happened, and she trembled before
him.

'Back already?' he exclaimed, with a grim smile. 'Be quick, and take
your things off, and come to the library.'

If he had discovered anything (the lie, for instance, that she told him
a month ago, or that more recent falsehood when she pretended, without
serious reason, to have been at Miss Barfoot's lecture), he would not
look and speak thus. Hurrying, panting, she made a change of dress, and
obeyed his summons.

'Miss Nunn has been here,' were his first words.

She turned pale as death. Of course he observed it; she was now
preparing for anything.

'She wanted to see you because she is going away on Monday. What's the
matter?'

'Nothing. You spoke so strangely--'

'Did I? And you _look_ very strangely. I don't understand you. Miss
Nunn says that everybody has noticed how ill you seem. It's time we did
something. To-morrow morning we are going down into Somerset, to
Clevedon, to find a house.'

'I thought you had given up that idea.'

'Whether I had or not doesn't matter.'

In the determination to appear, and be, energetic, he spoke with a
rough obstinacy, a doggedness that now and then became violence. 'I am
decided on it now. There's a train to Bristol at ten-twenty. You will
pack just a few things; we shan't be away for more than a day or two.'

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday--By Friday they might be back. Till now,
in an anguish of uncertainty, Monica had made up her mind. She would
keep the appointment on Friday, come of it what might. If she could not
be back in time, she would write a letter.

'Why are you talking in this tone?' she said coldly.

'What tone? I am telling