arden that May morning, when the white petals of
the Guelder roses in Elizabeth's hand lay like snow on the gravel path,
and all this time he had sternly adhered to his resolution.

In those two years he had only paid four visits to the Wood House, and
on two of these occasions Elizabeth had been absent. Each time he had
come on Dinah's invitation, to give her the help and counsel she
needed, and more than once he had met her at 27 Queen's Gate.

For Cedric had had his way, and had effected an introduction between
his sisters and Mrs. Herrick; and as they had mutually taken to each
other, a pleasant intimacy had been the result, and Anna had paid two
or three visits to the Wood House. From the first moment of their
meeting Anna had fallen in love with Dinah. "You must not think that I
do not care for Miss Elizabeth Templeton," she had observed rather
shyly to Malcolm, after her first visit to Staplegrove--"for I admire
and like her more than I can say, and I am never tired of talking to
her--but I do love my dear Miss Dinah!" And indeed Dinah accepted the
girl's innocent worship with great kindness. "She is a dear child, and
Elizabeth and I are very fond of her," she wrote once to Malcolm; "the
thought that some one else is fond of her too makes me very happy." For
at this time it was evident to all Cedric's friends that a mutual
attachment was growing up between him and Anna.

The years had not been unfruitful to Malcolm, and his name as a
powerful and successful author was firmly established. He no longer
held his appointment, and had given up his dingy chambers in Lincoln's
Inn. His own work fully occupied him, and thanks to his literary
receipts and his mother's generosity, he realised a good income.

To his own regret and to his friends also, he was no longer a member of
the Keston menage. He had outgrown his homely quarters, and now
occupied one of the new flats in Cheyne Walk, and lived in quite a
palatial fashion, though many a pipe was still smoked in Amias's
studio. Malcolm had emerged from his shell, and mixed freely in
society. His was a name to conjure with, and all the people best worth
knowing gathered round him and delighted to do him homage. Elizabeth
used to read his name sometimes in the columns of the Times and the
Morning Post. "He seems to go everywhere, and to know every one," she
observed once to Dinah; "I am afraid he will be terribly spoiled." But
she only said it to tease Dinah. She knew th