ome to-night?" she asked of the landlady.

"No, Mrs. Beadon, he didn't; but he said that he was very busy in the
city and would write or send if he couldn't come himself."

"How was he looking?"

"Oh, very well, but a bit worried, I thought," said Mrs. Capper. "Now
let me take your things, ma'am, and then I'll bring up the tea: you
don't look as if your stay in the country had done you much good after
all."

"Oh, I'm very well," said Milly, unfastening her mantle and coloring
with nervousness under the woman's sharp eye. "I daresay Mr. Beadon will
come to-morrow, if he doesn't come to-night."

But nobody came, although she sat up watching and waiting for many hours
after Mrs. Capper had betaken herself to her bed. What did this silence
and absence mean? Her heart contracted with a curious dread. She loved,
but she had never believed herself capable of retaining love.

About eleven o'clock next day, she was informed that a gentleman wanted
to speak to her. "A young-looking, fair gentleman, like a clerk," said
Mrs. Capper. "Shall I show him up? It's from your good 'usband, most
likely, I should think."

Milly started from the chair by the window, where she had been sitting.
"Oh, show him up, at once, please."

With one hand on the table, and her delicate face flushed, she presented
a picture of loveliness such as the man who entered did not often see.
He even paused for a moment on the threshold as if too much amazed to
enter, and his manner was somewhat uneasy as he bowed to her, with his
eyes fixed in a rather furtive manner on her face.

He was a man of thirty-five, although his smooth-shaven face and fair
hair made him look younger than his years. It was a commonplace
countenance, shrewd and intelligent enough, but not very attractive.
There was a certain honesty in his eyes, however, which redeemed the
plainness of his insignificant and irregular features.

"Mrs. Beadon, I think?" he said. "My name's Johnson. I come from
Mr.--Mr. Beadon with a message."

"Yes?" said Milly, her hand upon her side. "What is it, please? Tell me
quickly--is he coming to-day?"

The man looked at her oddly. There was something like pity in his eyes.

"Not to-day, madam," he replied.

Milly sank down on her chair again and sighed deeply. The color left her
cheeks.

"I have a communication to make, madam," said the clerk, rather
hesitatingly, "which I am afraid may be a little painful, though not,
Mr. Beadon tells me, unex