face, saw that her eyes were laden
with tears, and refrained from speaking. As they passed the ugly
red-brick rectory-house, Clara for a moment put her face to the
window, and then withdrew it. "There is nobody there," she said, "who
will care to see me. Considering that I have lived here all my life,
is it not odd that there should be so few to bid me good-bye?"

"People do not like to put themselves forward on such occasions,"
said Will.

"People!--there are no people. No one ever had so few to care for
them as I have. And now--. But never mind; I mean to do very well,
and I shall do very well." Belton would not take advantage of her in
her sadness, and they reached the station at Taunton almost without
another word.

Of course they had to wait there for half an hour, and of course the
waiting was very tedious. To Will it was very tedious indeed, as he
was not by nature good at waiting. To Clara, who on this occasion
sat perfectly still in the waiting-room, with her toes on the fender
before the fire, the evil of the occasion was not so severe. "The man
would take two hours for the journey, though I told him an hour and a
half would be enough," said Will, querulously.

"But we might have had an accident."

"An accident! What accident? People don't have accidents every day."

At last the train came and they started. Clara, though she had with
her her best friend,--I may almost say the friend whom in the world
she loved the best,--did not have an agreeable journey. Belton would
not talk; but as he made no attempt at reading, Clara did not like
to have recourse to the book which she had in her travelling-bag. He
sat opposite to her, opening the window and shutting it as he thought
she might like it, but looking wretched and forlorn. At Swindon
he brightened up for a moment under the excitement of getting her
something to eat, but that relaxation lasted only for a few minutes.
After that he relapsed again into silence till the train had passed
Slough, and he knew that in another half-hour they would be in
London. Then he leant over her and spoke.

"This will probably be the last opportunity I shall have of saying a
few words to you,--alone."

"I don't know that at all, Will."

"It will be the last for a long time at any rate. And as I have got
something to say, I might as well say it now. I have thought a great
deal about the property,--the Belton estate, I mean; and I don't
intend to take it as mine.

"Tha