btain my address.'

The truth was, that a generous impulse, partly of his nature, and
in part such as any man might know in a moment of unanticipated good
fortune, had bade him put aside his prejudices and meet Mutimer at once
on a footing of mutual respect. Incapable of ignoble exultation, it
seemed to him that true delicacy dictated a personal interview with
the man who, judging from Yottle's report, had so cheerfully acquitted
himself of the hard task imposed by honour. But as he walked over from
Agworth this zeal cooled. Could he trust Mutimer to appreciate his
motive? Such a man was capable of acting honourably, but the power
of understanding delicacies of behaviour was not so likely to be his.
Hubert's prejudices were insuperable; to his mind class differences
necessarily argued a difference in the grain. And it was not only this
consideration that grew weightier as he walked. In the great joy of
recovering his ancestral home, in the sight of his mother's profound
happiness, he all but forgot the thoughts that had besieged him since
his meetings with Adela in London. As he drew near to Wanley his
imagination busied itself almost exclusively with her; distrust and
jealousy of Mutimer became fear for Adela's future. Such a change as
this would certainly have a dire effect upon her life. He thought of
her frail appearance; he remembered the glimpse of her face that he
had caught when her husband entered Mrs. Westlake's drawing-room, the
startled movement she could not suppress. It was impossible to meet
Mutimer with any show of good-feeling; he wondered how he could have set
forth with such an object. Instead of going to the Manor he turned his
steps to the Vicarage, and joined Mr. Wyvern at luncheon. The vicar had
of course heard nothing of the discovery as yet. In the afternoon Hubert
started to walk back to Agworth, but instead of taking the direct road
he strayed into the wood. He was loth to leave the neighbourhood of the
Manor; intense anxiety to know what Adela was doing made him linger
near the place where she was. Was she already suffering from brutal
treatment? What wretchedness might she not be undergoing within those
walls!

He said she seemed to have sprung up in answer to his desire. In
truth, her sudden appearance overcame him; her tearful face turned to
irresistible passion that yearning which, consciously or unconsciously,
was at all times present in his life. Her grief could have but one
meaning;