or seven weeks."

"I've often thought about you," said Elgar, after a pause.

"But you never came to see how I was getting on."

"Oh, I supposed you were married long since."

She laughed, and shook her head.

"You are, though, I suppose?" she asked.

"Not I!"

They talked with increasing friendliness until the rain stopped, then
walked away together in the direction of the City.

About dinner-time, Cecily received a telegram. It was from her husband,
and informed her that he had left town with a friend for a day or two.

This was the first instance of such a proceeding on Reuben's part. For
a moment, it astonished her. Which of his friends could it be? But when
the surprise had passed, she reflected more on his reasons for
absenting himself, and believed that she understood them. He wished to
punish her; he thought she would be anxious about him, and so come to
adopt a different demeanour when he returned. Ever so slight a
suspicion of another kind occurred to her once or twice, but she had no
difficulty in dismissing it. No; this was merely one of his tactics in
the conflict that had begun between them.

And his absence was a relief. She too wanted to think for a while,
undisturbed. When she had seen the child bed and asleep, she moved
about the house with a strange sense of freedom, seeming to breathe
more naturally than for several days. She went to the piano, and played
some favourite pieces, among them one which she had learnt long ago in
Paris. It gave her a curiously keen pleasure, like a revival of her
girlhood; she lingered over it, and nursed the impression. Then she
read a little--not continuously, but dipping into familiar books. It
was holiday with her. And when she lay down to rest, the sense of being
alone was still grateful. Sleep came very soon, and she did not stir
till morning.

On the third day Elgar returned, at noon. She heard the cab that
brought him. He lingered in the hall, opened the library door; then
came to the drawing-room, humming an air. His look was as different as
could be from that she had last seen on his face; he came towards her
with his pleasantest smile, and first kissed her hand, then embraced
her in the old way.

"You haven't been anxious about me, Ciss?"

"Not at all," she replied quietly, rather permitting his caresses than
encouraging them.

"Some one I hadn't met for several years. He was going down to
Brighton, and persuaded me to accompany him. I didn't