such marked respect. He had (or pretended that he had) an
engagement to dinner that day--and he took an early leave of us all;
intending to go back to London by the first train the next morning.

"Are you sure of your own resolution?" he said to Rachel at the door.

"Quite sure," she answered--and so they parted.

The moment his back was turned, Rachel withdrew to her own room. She
never appeared at dinner. Her maid (the person with the cap-ribbons) was
sent down-stairs to announce that her headache had returned. I ran up
to her and made all sorts of sisterly offers through the door. It was
locked, and she kept it locked. Plenty of obstructive material to work
on here! I felt greatly cheered and stimulated by her locking the door.

When her cup of tea went up to her the next morning, I followed it in.
I sat by her bedside and said a few earnest words. She listened with
languid civility. I noticed my serious friend's precious publications
huddled together on a table in a corner. Had she chanced to look into
them?--I asked. Yes--and they had not interested her. Would she allow
me to read a few passages of the deepest interest, which had probably
escaped her eye? No, not now--she had other things to think of. She gave
these answers, with her attention apparently absorbed in folding and
refolding the frilling on her nightgown. It was plainly necessary to
rouse her by some reference to those worldly interests which she still
had at heart.

"Do you know, love," I said, "I had an odd fancy, yesterday, about Mr.
Bruff? I thought, when I saw you after your walk with him, that he had
been telling you some bad news."

Her fingers dropped from the frilling of her nightgown, and her fierce
black eyes flashed at me.

"Quite the contrary!" she said. "It was news I was interested in
hearing--and I am deeply indebted to Mr. Bruff for telling me of it."

"Yes?" I said, in a tone of gentle interest.

Her fingers went back to the frilling, and she turned her head sullenly
away from me. I had been met in this manner, in the course of plying the
good work, hundreds of times. She merely stimulated me to try again.
In my dauntless zeal for her welfare, I ran the great risk, and openly
alluded to her marriage engagement.

"News you were interested in hearing?" I repeated. "I suppose, my dear
Rachel, that must be news of Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite?"

She started up in the bed, and turned deadly pale. It was evidently on
the tip of her ton