ival Mr Neeld had been plunged into the
Tristram affair, and surrounded by people who were connected with it.
But it must be admitted that he had it on his brain and saw it
everywhere. For to-day it was not the leading topic of the neighborhood,
and Miss S.'s observation had been only by the way. The engagement was
the topic, and only Neeld (or perhaps Mina Zabriska too, at Blent),
insisted on digging up a hypothetical past and repeating, in
retrospective rumination, that Harry Tristram might have been the lucky
man. As for such an idea--well, Miss S. happened to know that there had
never been anything in it; Janie Iver herself had told her so, she said.
The question between Janie and Miss S., which this assertion raises, may
be passed by without discussion.

He had met Gainsborough essaying a furtive entry into Blentmouth and
heading toward the curiosity-shop--with a good excuse this time. It was
Cecily's birthday, and the occasion, which was to be celebrated by a
dinner-party, must be marked by a present also. Neeld went with the
little gentleman, and they bought a bit of old Chelsea (which looked
very young for its age). Coming out, Gainsborough sighted Mrs Trumbler
coming up High Street and Miss S. coming down it. He doubled up a side
street to the churchyard, Neeld pursuing him at a more leisurely pace.

"It's positively worthy of a place at Blent--in the Long Gallery,"
panted Gainsborough, hugging his brown-paper-covered prize. "You'll be
interested to see the changes we're making, Mr Neeld. Cecily has begun
to take an enormous interest in the house, and I--I'm settling down."

"You don't regret London ever?"

"I shall run up now and then. My duty is to my daughter. Of course her
life is changed." He sighed as he added, "We're getting quite used to
that."

"She has come to love the place, I dare say?"

"Yes, yes. She's in very good spirits and quite happy in her position
now, I think." He glanced over his shoulder. Miss S. was in sight.
"Good-by. So glad we shall see you to-night." He made his escape at a
run. Neeld, having been interrogated at lunch already, was allowed to
pass by with a lift of his hat.

Janie was very happy. She at least thought no more of that bygone
episode. She asked no questions about Harry Tristram. He had dropped out
of her life. He seemed to have dropped out of the life of the
countryside too. That was strange anyhow, when it was remembered how
large a local figure the young man