as overtaking her. As he drew near to
her, she turned her head. He knew her at once, for it was Letty Tew. He
had been used to meet Letty often at the Walthams'.

Evidently he was himself recognised; the girl swerved a little, as if to
let him pass, and kept her head bent. He obeyed an impulse and spoke to
her.

'I am afraid you have forgotten me, Miss Tew. Yet I don't like to pass
you without saying a word.'

'I thought it was--the light makes it difficult--' Letty murmured, sadly
embarrassed.

'But the moon is beautiful.'

'Very beautiful.'

They regarded it together. Letty could not help glancing at her
companion, and as he did not turn his face she examined him for a moment
or two.

'I am going to see my friend Mr. Wyvern,' Hubert proceeded.

A few more remarks of the kind were exchanged, Letty by degrees
summoning a cold confidence; then Hubert said--

'I have here a book which belongs to Miss Waltham. She lent it to me
a year ago, and I wish to return it. Dare I ask you to put it into her
hands?'

Letty knew what the book must be. Adela had told her of it at the time,
and since had spoken of it once or twice.

'Oh, yes, I will give it her,' she replied, rather nervously again.

'Will you say that I would gladly have thanked her myself, if it had
been possible?'

'Yes, Mr. Eldon, I will say that.'

Something in Hubert's voice seemed to cause Letty to raise her eyes
again.

'You wish me to thank her?' she added; inconsequently perhaps, but with
a certain significance.

'If you will be so kind.'

Hubert wanted to say more, but found it difficult to discover the right
words. Letty, too, tried to shadow forth something that was in her mind,
but with no better success.

'If I remember,' Hubert said, pausing in his walk, 'this stile will
be my shortest way across to the Vicarage. Thank you much for your
kindness.'

He had raised his hat and was turning, but Letty impulsively put forth
her hand. 'Good-bye,' he said, in a friendly voice, as he took the
little fingers. 'I wish the old days were back again, and we were going
to have tea together as we used to.'

Mr. Wyvern's face gave no promise of cheerful intelligence as he
welcomed his visitor.

'What is the origin of this, I wonder?' he said, handing Hubert the
'Belwick Chronicle.'

The state of the young man's nerves was not well adapted to sustain
fresh irritation. He turned pale with anger.

'Is this going the round of Wanley?'

'Pr