e house," was her offhand reply.

"I met Narramore down at the station; he must have passed you. What has
brought him here to-day, I wonder?"

Appearing not to heed the remark, Eve glanced across at Patty, and said
with a laugh:

"It's like Paris again, isn't it--we three? You ought to come and live
here, Patty. Don't you think you could get a place in Birmingham? Mr.
Hilliard would get a piano for his room, and you could let him have
some music. I'm too old to learn."

"I'm sure he wouldn't want _me_ jingling there."

"Wouldn't he? He's very fond of music indeed."

Hilliard stopped.

"Well, I don't think I'll go any further," he said mechanically.
"You're quite well again, Eve, and that's all I wanted to know."

"What about to-morrow?" Eve asked.

The sun had set, and in the westward sky rose a mountain of menacing
cloud. Hilliard gave a glance in that direction before replying.

"Don't count upon me. Patty and you will enjoy the day together, in any
case. Yes, I had rather have it so. Narramore said just now he might
look in to see me in the after' noon. But come over on Monday. When
does Patty's train go from New Street?"

Eve was mute, gazing at the speaker as if she did not catch what he had
said. Patty answered for herself.

"Then you can either come to my place," he continued, "or I'll meet you
at the station."

Patty's desire was evident in her face; she looked at Eve.

"We'll come to you early in the afternoon," said the latter, speaking
like one aroused from reverie. "Yes, we'll come whatever the weather
is."

The young man shook hands with them, raised his hat, and walked away
without further speech. It occurred to him that he might overtake
Narramore at the station, and in that hope he hastened; but Narramore
must have left by a London and North-Western train which had just
started; he was nowhere discoverable. Hilliard travelled back by the
Great Western, after waiting about an hour; he had for companions
half-a-dozen beer-muddled lads, who roared hymns and costers' catches
impartially.

His mind was haunted with deadly suspicions: he felt sick at heart.

Eve's headache, undoubtedly, was a mere pretence for not accompanying
Patty to-day. She had desired to be alone, and--this he discovered no
less clearly--she wished the friendship between him and Patty to be
fostered. With what foolish hope? Was she so shallow-natured as to
imagine that he might transfer his affections to Patty Ringro