nted to her, in my
way, as Miss Halcombe did in hers! It troubled me sorely to see her
looking back, at the beginning of her career, just as I look back at
the end of mine.

"If I do come again, I hope I shall find you better," I said; "better
and happier. God bless you, my dear!"

She only answered by putting up her cheek to me to be kissed. Even
lawyers have hearts, and mine ached a little as I took leave of her.

The whole interview between us had hardly lasted more than half an
hour--she had not breathed a word, in my presence, to explain the
mystery of her evident distress and dismay at the prospect of her
marriage, and yet she had contrived to win me over to her side of the
question, I neither knew how nor why. I had entered the room, feeling
that Sir Percival Glyde had fair reason to complain of the manner in
which she was treating him. I left it, secretly hoping that matters
might end in her taking him at his word and claiming her release. A
man of my age and experience ought to have known better than to
vacillate in this unreasonable manner. I can make no excuse for
myself; I can only tell the truth, and say--so it was.

The hour for my departure was now drawing near. I sent to Mr. Fairlie
to say that I would wait on him to take leave if he liked, but that he
must excuse my being rather in a hurry. He sent a message back,
written in pencil on a slip of paper: "Kind love and best wishes, dear
Gilmore. Hurry of any kind is inexpressibly injurious to me. Pray
take care of yourself. Good-bye."

Just before I left I saw Miss Halcombe for a moment alone.

"Have you said all you wanted to Laura?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "She is very weak and nervous--I am glad she has you
to take care of her."

Miss Halcombe's sharp eyes studied my face attentively.

"You are altering your opinion about Laura," she said. "You are
readier to make allowances for her than you were yesterday."

No sensible man ever engages, unprepared, in a fencing match of words
with a woman. I only answered--

"Let me know what happens. I will do nothing till I hear from you."

She still looked hard in my face. "I wish it was all over, and well
over, Mr. Gilmore--and so do you." With those words she left me.

Sir Percival most politely insisted on seeing me to the carriage door.

"If you are ever in my neighbourhood," he said, "pray don't forget that
I am sincerely anxious to improve our acquaintance. The tried and