Everett will spend most of his time down here.
Of course it is better that you should meet him and have done with
it." There was no answer to be made to this, but still she was fixed
in her resolution that she would never meet him as her lover.

Then came the morning of the day on which he was to arrive, and his
coming was for the first time spoken openly of at breakfast. "How is
Arthur to be brought from the station?" asked old Mrs. Fletcher.

"I'm going to take the dog-cart," said Everett. "Giles will go for
the luggage with the pony. He is bringing down a lot of things;--a
new saddle, and a gun for me." It had all been arranged for her, this
question and answer, and Emily blushed as she felt that it was so.

"We shall be so glad to see Arthur," said young Mrs. Fletcher to her.

"Of course you will."

"He has not been down since the Session was over, and he has got to
be quite a speaking man now. I do so hope he'll become something some
day."

"I'm sure he will," said Emily.

"Not a judge, however. I hate wigs. Perhaps he might be Lord
Chancellor in time." Mrs. Fletcher was not more ignorant than some
other ladies in being unaware of the Lord Chancellor's wig and exact
position.

At last he came. The 9 A.M. express for Hereford,--express, at least,
for the first two or three hours out of London,--brought passengers
for Wharton to the nearest station at 3 P.M., and the distance was
not above five miles. Before four o'clock Arthur was standing before
the drawing-room fire, with a cup of tea in his hand, surrounded by
Fletchers and Whartons, and being made much of as the young family
member of Parliament. But Emily was not in the room. She had studied
her Bradshaw, and learned the hours of the trains, and was now in her
bedroom. He had looked around the moment he entered the room, but had
not dared to ask for her suddenly. He had said one word about her to
Everett in the cart, and that had been all. She was in the house, and
he must, at any rate, see her before dinner.

Emily, in order that she might not seem to escape abruptly, had
retired early to her solitude. But she, too, knew that the meeting
could not be long postponed. She sat thinking of it all, and at
last heard the wheels of the vehicle before the door. She paused,
listening with all her ears, that she might recognise his voice, or
possibly his footstep. She stood near the window, behind the curtain,
with her hand pressed to her heart. She heard Eve