s and friends; I had also to answer letters
of congratulation, and all the business of that great change
in one's existence was in the full tide of activity.

The second morning after Edward's departure, I asked Alice to
go with me to a shop in St. James's-street, where I wanted to
buy a present for Mrs. Hatton. We set out together, but as the
day was fine and not too hot for walking, we resolved to go
first into Hyde Park. The dusty burnt-up grass was still
pleasanter to tread upon than the broad flag-stones; and there
was a breeze that felt pure and refreshing to lungs that had
been obliged for so long to inhale the foggy atmosphere of
London. Alice was talking more eagerly than usual; and when
she mentioned Henry, there was an expression in her lovely
face which I had never seen in it before. As we were speaking
of the probable day of Edward's return, she drew from her
pocket the note which Henry had written to her that morning,
and holding it out to me she said, "You see he talks of coming
back on Friday." The note was a kind one, and by the way in
which she read it over, as I gave it back to her, and then
folded it carefully and replaced it in her bosom, I could see
the pleasure it had given her. As we entered the Green Park, I
saw a man who seemed to me to be watching us. There was
something in his figure and in the way in which his head was
set on his shoulders, which seemed not new to me; but I did
not look back long enough to ascertain this, and only walked
faster from the suspicion that we were followed. On turning
out of the gate of the park into Piccadilly I gave another
glance, and saw the man in question standing by the side of
the basin with his eyes fixed on the water. As we went on
towards St. James's-street, I saw him once again, walking in a
parallel line with us on the other side of the street. After
awhile he disappeared, and I concluded that the whole thing
was accidental. We entered the jeweller's shop and were busily
engaged in examining several brooches, among which I was to
choose one for my present, when on turning to show one which
took my fancy to Alice, whose back was to the door, I saw
against one of the panes of the shop-window the face of the
man who had followed us, and whom I now recognised as that
cousin of Alice's whom I had seen at Salisbury and once again
at Brandon; but who Henry had given me to understand had left
England for America some months before. I gave an involuntary