d at Harold's indifference to her
friendship; it hurt her self-esteem, which had been enhanced by the
influence she had so palpably wielded over him. It also angered her to
think that, after all, she would not be able to drink the draught of
revenge which she had promised herself at the Devitts' expense.

All this time she had given no further thought to Windebank's letter;
it remained unanswered. As the days passed, and she saw nothing of
Harold, she began to think considerably of the man who had written to
offer her marriage. These thoughts were largely coloured with
resentment at the fact of Windebank's not having followed up his
unanswered letter by either another communication or a personal appeal.
Soon she was torn by two emotions: hatred of the Devitts and awakened
interest in Windebank; she did not know which influenced her the more.
She all but made up her mind to write some sort of a reply to
Windebank, when she met Harold pulling himself along the road towards
the sea.

He had changed in the fortnight that had elapsed since she had last
seen him; his face had lost flesh; he looked worn and anxious.

When he saw her, he pulled up. She gave him a formal bow, and was about
to pass him, when the hurt expression on the invalid's face caused her
to stop irresolutely by his side.

"At last!" he said.

Mavis looked at him inquiringly.

"I could bear it no longer," he went on.

"Bear what?"

He did not reply; indeed, he did not appear to listen to her words, but
said:

"I feared you'd gone for good."

"I've seen nothing of you either."

"Then you missed me? Tell me that you did."

"I don't know."

"I have missed YOU."

"Indeed!"

"I daren't say how much. Where are you going now?"

"Nowhere."

"May I come too?" he asked pleadingly. "I'll go a little way," she
remarked.

"Meet me by the sea in ten minutes."

"Why not go there together?"

"I'd far rather meet you."

"Don't you like being seen with me?"

"Yes and no. Yes, because I am very proud at being seen with you."

"And 'no'?"

"It's why I wanted you to meet me by the sea."

"Why?"

"Can't you guess?"

"If I could I wouldn't ask."

"I'll tell you. When you walk with me, I'm afraid you notice my
infirmity the more."

"I'll only go on one condition," declared Mavis.

"That---?"

"That we go straight there from here."

"I'm helpless where you're concerned," he sighed, as he started his
tricycle.

They went to the road b