nd perhaps worry, appeared in her
countenance.

'Thank you so much for coming,' she said quietly. 'You must have been
surprised when you saw----'

'I was, indeed.'

'And my surprise was still greater, when, without any warning, Alma
walked into the room two days ago. But I was so glad, so very glad.'

She breathed a little sigh, looking round.

'Hasn't Alma given her friends any tea? I must ring--Thank you.--Oh,
the wretched, wretched day! I seem to notice the weather so much more
than I used to. Does it affect you at all?'

Not till the tea-tray was brought in, and she had sipped from her cup,
did Mrs. Frothingham lay aside these commonplaces. With abrupt gravity,
and in a subdued voice, she at length inquired the result of Rolfe's
delicate mission.

'I think,' he replied, 'that I made known your wish as clearly and
urgently as possible. I have seen Mrs. Abbott, and written to her
twice. It will be best, perhaps, if I ask you to read her final letter.
I have her permission to show it to you.'

He drew the letter from its envelope, and with a nervous hand Mrs
Frothingham took it for perusal. Whilst she was thus occupied, Rolfe
averted his eyes; when he knew that she had read to the end, he looked
at her. She had again sighed, and Harvey could not help imagining it an
involuntary signal of relief.

'I am very glad to have read this, Mr. Rolfe. If you had merely told me
that Mrs. Abbott refused, I should have felt nothing but pain. As it
is, I understand that she _could_ only refuse, and I am most grateful
for all she says about me. I regret more than ever that I don't know
her.'

As she handed the letter back, it shook like a blown leaf. She was
pale, and spoke with effort. But in a few moments, when conversation
was resumed, her tone took a lightness and freedom which confirmed
Rolfe's impression that she had escaped from a great embarrassment; and
this surmise he inevitably connected with Alma's display of strange
ill-humour.

Not another word passed on the subject. With frequent glances towards
the door, Mrs. Frothingham again talked commonplace. Harvey, eager to
get away, soon rose.

'Oh, you are not going? Alma will be back in a moment.'

And as her step-mother spoke, the young lady reappeared.

'Why didn't you give your friends tea, dear?'

'I forgot all about it. That comes of living alone. Dora has composed a
gavotte, Mamma. She was playing it when Mr. Rolfe came. It's capital!
Is Mr. Rolfe g