n
empty.

Returning across the grass by the way he had come, he was startled by the
voices of two men from the road hard by.

'Have ye zeed anybody?'

'Not a soul.'

'Shall we go across again?'

'What's the good? let's home to supper.'

'My lord must have heard somebody, or 'a wouldn't have said it.'

'Perhaps he's nervous now he's living in the cottage again. I thought
that fancy was over. Well, I'm glad 'tis a young wife he's brought us.
She'll have her routs and her rackets as well as the high-born ones,
you'll see, as soon as she gets used to the place.'

'She must be a queer Christian to pick up with him.'

'Well, if she've charity 'tis enough for we poor men; her faith and hope
may be as please God. Now I be for on-along homeward.'

As soon as they had gone Christopher moved from his hiding, and, avoiding
the gravel-walk, returned to his coachman, telling him to drive at once
to Anglebury.

Julian was so impatient of the futility of his adventure that he wished
to annihilate its existence. On reaching Anglebury he determined to get
on at once to Melchester, that the event of the night might be summarily
ended; to be still in the neighbourhood was to be still engaged in it. He
reached home before midnight.

Walking into their house in a quiet street, as dissatisfied with himself
as a man well could be who still retained health and an occupation, he
found Faith sitting up as usual. His news was simple: the marriage had
taken place before he could get there, and he had seen nothing of either
ceremony or viscountess. The remainder he reserved for a more convenient
season.

Edith looked anxiously at him as he ate supper, smiling now and then.

'Well, I am tired of this life,' said Christopher.

'So am I,' said Faith. 'Ah, if we were only rich!'

'Ah, yes.'

'Or if we were not rich,' she said, turning her eyes to the fire. 'If we
were only slightly provided for, it would be better than nothing. How
much would you be content with, Kit?'

'As much as I could get.'

'Would you be content with a thousand a year for both of us?'

'I daresay I should,' he murmured, breaking his bread.

'Or five hundred for both?'

'Or five hundred.'

'Or even three hundred?'

'Bother three hundred. Less than double the sum would not satisfy me. We
may as well imagine much as little.'

Faith's countenance had fallen. 'O Kit,' she said, 'you always
disappoint me.'

'I do. How do I disappoint you