," I said. "Tell me when to go after that apology is
accepted. I promise implicit obedience to you and to your advice."

"Time is every way of importance," she answered. "You heard me refer
this morning to Monday next, and to the necessity of setting the purple
room in order. The visitor whom we expect on Monday----"

I could not wait for her to be more explicit. Knowing what I knew now,
the memory of Miss Fairlie's look and manner at the breakfast-table
told me that the expected visitor at Limmeridge House was her future
husband. I tried to force it back; but something rose within me at
that moment stronger than my own will, and I interrupted Miss Halcombe.

"Let me go to-day," I said bitterly. "The sooner the better."

"No, not to-day," she replied. "The only reason you can assign to Mr.
Fairlie for your departure, before the end of your engagement, must be
that an unforeseen necessity compels you to ask his permission to
return at once to London. You must wait till to-morrow to tell him
that, at the time when the post comes in, because he will then
understand the sudden change in your plans, by associating it with the
arrival of a letter from London. It is miserable and sickening to
descend to deceit, even of the most harmless kind--but I know Mr.
Fairlie, and if you once excite his suspicions that you are trifling
with him, he will refuse to release you. Speak to him on Friday
morning: occupy yourself afterwards (for the sake of your own interests
with your employer) in leaving your unfinished work in as little
confusion as possible, and quit this place on Saturday. It will be
time enough then, Mr. Hartright, for you, and for all of us."

Before I could assure her that she might depend on my acting in the
strictest accordance with her wishes, we were both startled by
advancing footsteps in the shrubbery. Some one was coming from the
house to seek for us! I felt the blood rush into my cheeks and then
leave them again. Could the third person who was fast approaching us,
at such a time and under such circumstances, be Miss Fairlie?

It was a relief--so sadly, so hopelessly was my position towards her
changed already--it was absolutely a relief to me, when the person who
had disturbed us appeared at the entrance of the summer-house, and
proved to be only Miss Fairlie's maid.

"Could I speak to you for a moment, miss?" said the girl, in rather a
flurried, unsettled manner.

Miss Halcombe descended t