be nothing to you: it would be 'something
for me to remember."

She would not recognize the fact, but for a brief moment his under lip
quivered; and somehow she seemed to know it, though she dared not look
up to his face.

"One afternoon, only one--to-morrow--next day, Wenna? Surely you
cannot refuse me that?" Then, looking at her with a great compassion
in his eyes, he suddenly altered his tone. "I think I ought to be
hanged," he said in a vexed way. "You are the only person in the world
I care for, and every time I see you I plunge you into trouble. Well,
this is the last time. Good-bye, Wenna." Almost involuntarily she put
out her hand, but it was with the least perceptible gesture, to bid
him remain. Then she went past him, and there were tears running down
her face. "If--if you will wait a moment," she said, "I will see if
mamma and I can go with you to-morrow afternoon."

She went out, and he was left alone. Each word that she had uttered
had pierced his heart; but which did he feel the more deeply--remorse
that he should have insisted on this slight and useless concession, or
bitter rage against the circumstances that environed them, and against
the man who was altogether responsible for these? There was now at
least one person in the world who greatly longed for the return of Mr.
Roscorla.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

FAREWELL!

"Yes, it is true," the young man said next morning to his cousin:
"this is the last time I shall see her for many a day." He was
standing with his back to her, moodily staring out of the window.

"Well, Harry," his cousin said, gently enough, "you won't be hurt if I
say it is a very good thing? I am glad to see you have so much
patience and reasonableness. Indeed, I think Miss Rosewarne has very
much improved you in that respect; and it is very good advice she has
given you now."

"Oh yes, it is all very well to talk!" he said, impatiently. "Common
sense is precious easy when you are quite indifferent. Of course she
is quite indifferent, and she says, 'Don't trouble me,' What can one
do but go? But if she was not so indifferent--" He turned suddenly:
"Jue, you can't tell what trouble I am in. Do you know that sometimes
I have fancied she was not quite as indifferent--I have had the
cheek to think so from one or two things she said--and then, if that
were so, it is enough to drive one mad to think of leaving her. How
could I leave her, Jue? If any one cared for you, would you quie