eloped pride would prevent his
revealing to any one what had passed between them. For several days
after her abrupt flight he had made no sign; and though she longed to
write and ask his forgiveness she could not find the words. Finally it
was he who wrote: a short note, from Altringham, typical of all that was
best in the old Strefford. He had gone down to Altringham, he told her,
to think quietly over their last talk, and try to understand what
she had been driving at. He had to own that he couldn't; but that, he
supposed, was the very head and front of his offending. Whatever he had
done to displease her, he was sorry for; but he asked, in view of his
invincible ignorance, to be allowed not to regard his offence as a cause
for a final break. The possibility of that, he found, would make him
even more unhappy than he had foreseen; as she knew, his own happiness
had always been his first object in life, and he therefore begged her to
suspend her decision a little longer. He expected to be in Paris within
another two months, and before arriving he would write again, and ask
her to see him.

The letter moved her but did not make her waver. She simply wrote that
she was touched by his kindness, and would willingly see him if he came
to Paris later; though she was bound to tell him that she had not yet
changed her mind, and did not believe it would promote his happiness to
have her try to do so.

He did not reply to this, and there was nothing further to keep her
thoughts from revolving endlessly about her inmost hopes and fears.

On the rainy afternoon in question, tramping home from the "cours" (to
which she was to return at six), she had said to herself that it was
two months that very day since Nick had known she was ready to release
him--and that after such a delay he was not likely to take any further
steps. The thought filled her with a vague ecstasy. She had had to fix
an arbitrary date as the term of her anguish, and she had fixed that
one; and behold she was justified. For what could his silence mean but
that he too....

On the hall-table lay a typed envelope with the Paris postage-mark. She
opened it carelessly, and saw that the letter-head bore Mr. Spearman's
office address. The words beneath spun round before her eyes.... "Has
notified us that he is at your disposal... carry out your wishes...
arriving in Paris... fix an appointment with his lawyers...."

Nick--it was Nick the words were talking of! It wa