poned, and that, as soon as Parliament met again, a
hostile vote would be carried against them. But for the time there was
nothing to keep John Derringham in England, and with intense reluctance
he started for Italy, the ever-nearing date for his wedding looming in
front of him like some heavy cloud. He had plunged headlong into work
when he had returned from Wendover, for which he was still quite unfit.
His whole system had received a terrible shock, and it would be months
before he could hope to be his old robust self again; and an unutterable
depression was upon him. The total silence of Halcyone, her
disappearance from the face of the earth as far as he was concerned,
seemed like something incredible.

There were no traces of her. Mrs. Porrit was out, and the orchard house
shut up, so, he obtained no information. He had stopped there to enquire
on his way to the station when he had left Wendover. La Sarthe Chase was
entirely closed, except for a woman and her husband from the village who
slept there. But what right had he to be interested now, in any case? He
had better shut the whole matter out of his mind, and keep his thoughts
upon his coming marriage with Cecilia Cricklander.

And it was this frame of mind which caused him to plunge recklessly into
work as soon as he reached London, though he found that nothing really
assuaged his misery.

It was a glorious day towards the end of August when he got onto the
boat at Dover, and there ran across Miss Cora Lutworth, bent upon
_trousseau_ business in Paris. She was with her friend, the lady who
chaperoned her, and greeted him with her usual breezy charm.

They sat down together in a comfortable corner on deck, while the lady
went to have a sleep. They talked of many things and mutual friends. He
was doing what was a comparatively rare thing in those days, taking over
a motor to tour down to Venice in, and Cora was duly interested. Freynie
adored motoring, too, she said, and that was how they intended to spend
their honeymoon. She was going to be married in a few weeks, and was
radiantly happy.

This was the first time she had seen John Derringham since his
engagement and his accident, and the great change in him gave her an
unpleasant shock. There were quite a number of silver threads in his
dark hair above the temples, and he looked haggard and gaunt and
lifeless. Cora's kind heart was touched.

"I am sure he does not care a rush for Cis," she thought to herse