e to the conclusion that he
himself was a poor sort of fellow. People who waited for the fruit to
fall into their mouths were apt to find that a hand intervened and
plucked it. That had happened to him once, and probably he could not
have helped it; but he meant to try to prevent its happening again. He
was in a ferment all the morning, partly on his own account, as much
about the revolution which had suddenly occurred in the little kingdom
on the banks of the Blent.

In the afternoon he had his gig brought round and set out for
Blentmouth. As he passed Blent Hall, he saw a girl on the bridge--a girl
in black looking down at the water. Lady Tristram? It was strange to
call her by the title that had been another's. But he supposed it must
be Lady Tristram. She did not look up as he passed; he retained a vision
of the slack dreariness of her pose. Going on, he met the Iver carriage;
Iver and Neeld sat in it, side by side; they waved their hands in
careless greeting and went on talking earnestly. On the outskirts of the
town he came on Miss Swinkerton and Mrs Trumbler walking together. As he
raised his hat, a dim and wholly inadequate idea occurred to him of the
excitement into which these good ladies would soon be thrown, a
foreshadowing of the wonder, the consternation, the questionings, the
bubbling emotions which were soon to stir the quiet backwaters of the
villas of Blentmouth. For himself, what was he going to do? He could not
tell. He put up his gig at the inn and sauntered out into the street;
still he could not tell. But he wandered out to Fairholme, up to the
gate, and past it, and back to it, and past it again.

Now would Harry Tristram do that? No; either he would never have come or
he would have been inside before this. Bob's new love of boldness did
not let him consider whether this was the happiest moment for its
display. Those learned in the lore of such matters would probably have
advised him to let her alone for a few days, or weeks, or months,
according to the subtilty of their knowledge or their views. Bob rang
the bell.

Janie was not denied to him, but only because no chance was given to her
of denying herself. A footman, unconscious of convulsions external or
internal, showed him into the morning-room. But Janie's own attitude was
plain enough in her reception of him.

"Oh, Bob, why in the world do you come here to-day? Indeed I can't talk
to you to-day." Her dismay was evident. "If there's noth