ons of their friendship; for once
before, when he had uttered a word which implied more than she was
willing to allow, Ida had engaged him in the distinct agreement that he
should never do or say anything that approached love-making. As,
moreover, it was distinctly understood that he should never visit her
save at times previously appointed, he could not see her till she chose
to write. After waiting in the vain expectation of some later post
bringing news, he himself wrote, simply asking the cause of her
silence. The reply came speedily.

"I have no spare time in the week. I thought you would understand this.

I. S."

It was her custom to write without any formal beginning or ending; yet
Waymark felt that this note was briefer than it would have been, had
all been as usual between them. The jealousy which now often tortured
him awoke with intolerable vehemence. He spent a week of misery.

But late on Saturday evening came a letter addressed in the well-known
hand. It said--

"Sally and I are going up the river to-morrow, if it is fine. Do you
care to meet us on the boat which reaches Chelsea Pier at 10.30?

I. S."

It seemed he did care; at all events he was half an hour too soon at
the pier. As the boat approached his eye soon singled out two very
quietly-dressed girls, who sat with their backs to him, and neither
turned nor made any sign of expecting any addition to their party. With
like undemonstrativeness he took a seat at Ida's side, and returned
Sally's nod and smile. Ida merely said "Good morning;" there was
nothing of displeasure on her face, however, and when he began to speak
of indifferent things she replied with the usual easy friendliness.

It was the first time he had seen her by daylight. He had been
uncertain whether she used any artificial colour on her cheeks;
seemingly she did, for now she looked much paler than usual. But the
perfect clearness of her complexion, the lustre of her eyes, appeared
to indicate complete health. She breathed the fresh sun-lit air with
frank enjoyment, and smiled to herself at objects on either side of the
river.

"By the by," Waymark said, when no words had been exchanged for some
minutes, "you didn't tell me where you were going; so I took no ticket,
and left matters to fate."

"Are you a good walker?" Ida asked.

"Fairly good, I flatter myself."

"Then this is what I propose. It's a plan I carried out two or three
times by myself last summer, an