e wall and never said a word, nor did any
further conversation on these matters pass between them.

Then as his strength came back so did his passion for Ida de la Molle
revive. He was not allowed to write or even receive letters, and with
this explanation of her silence he was fain to content himself. But
the Squire, he was told, often called to inquire after him, and once
or twice Ida came with him.

At length a time came--it was two days after he had been told of his
father's death--when he was pronounced fit to be moved into his own
rooms and to receive his correspondence as usual.

The move was effected without any difficulty, and here Belle bade him
good-bye. Even as she did so George drove his fat pony up to the door,
and getting down gave a letter to the landlady, with particular
instructions that it was to be delivered into Mr. Cossey's own hands.
As she passed Belle saw that it was addressed in the Squire's
handwriting.

When it was delivered to him Edward Cossey opened it with eagerness.
It contained an inclosure in Ida's writing, and this he read first. It
ran as follows:

"Dear Mr. Cossey,--

"I am told that you are now able to read letters, so I hasten to
write to you. First of all, let me say how thankful I am that you
are in a fair way to complete recovery from your dreadful
accident. And now I must tell you what I fear will be almost as
painful to you to read as it is for me to write, namely, that the
engagement between us is at an end. To put the matter frankly, you
will remember that I rightly or wrongly became engaged to you on a
certain condition. That condition has not been fulfilled, for Mr.
Quest, to whom the mortgages on my father's property have been
transferred by you, is pressing for their payment. Consequently
the obligation on my part is at an end, and with it the engagement
must end also, for I grieve to tell you that it is not one which
my personal inclination will induce me to carry out. Wishing you a
speedy and complete recovery, and every happiness and prosperity
in your future life, believe me, dear Mr. Cossey,

"Very truly yours,
"Ida de la Molle."

He put down this uncompromising and crushing epistle and nervously
glanced at the Squire's, which was very short.

"My dear Cossey," it began,--

"Ida has shown me the inclosed letter. I think that you d