the Avenue
on Wednesday, being now entirely confined to the sofa with my ankle,
which has gone to the bad. I am only staying on now with sick leave,
and the Chief very sulky at that. When shall I again see those beloved,
angel-like, soft blue eyes? Don't write to me here, for, as you may
remember, the orderly fetches the letters, and my august brother-in-law
sometimes deals them round.

"Your ever devotedly attached,
"A. Du M."

Poor Bluebell, as she read these few and rather cavalier lines, felt for
the moment as if she had never suffered till now; his hinted at
departure, and apparent resignation to absence from her, was a severe
shock, and, in the first hot feeling of grief, the scales fell from her
eyes, and she began to see Bertie as he was, but she could not yet endure
the light of reason, so resumed her voluntary blindness, and re-read the
letter, and though very little of it could satisfy her expectations, she
dwelt more on the few words that did. After a while, she remembered the
other letter, and found, with awakening interest, it was from Mrs.
Rolleston. This was written in a pleasant chit-chat style, giving an
account of their every-day life since she left, and not at all avoiding
Bertie's name, the tedious effect of his toboggining accident being
one of the chief incidents mentioned. It wound up with saying that they
expected her back as soon as she liked.

Bluebell felt rather mystified at the tone of this epistle; but was much
comforted by the thought that the ban was removed, and she might go to
"The Maples" and judge for herself. This was dated prior to the other
letter, but Bertie appeared to have been ignorant of it.

The following day, our heroine, in a hired sleigh, was jingling back to
"The Maples," and curiosity and interest all centred on one question--"Is
he there still?"

As she passed through the hall, her eye glanced searchingly round on the
chance of seeing some familiar property of Bertie's. There was only a
pair of his moccasins; but they might so easily have been left behind as
useless, now the snow was evaporating.

Mrs. Rolleston and Cecil received her very cordially, but, knowing their
sentiments, that was rather an unfavourable omen, and Freddy and Lola,
who had come down to see her, kept up such an incessant chatter, that
there seemed no chance of obtaining the information she dreaded.

At last, in a momentary pause, she faltered out a leading remark in
such