urting her was as strong as his love. He made no phrases to
himself, and he thought of nothing theatrical which he should like to
say. He just set his teeth and packed his clothes alone. Possibly he
swore rather unmercifully at the coat which would not fit into the right
place, and at the starched shirt-cuffs which would not lie flat until he
smashed them out of shape with unsteady hands.

When he was ready, he wrote a few words to Clare. He said that he was
going away immediately, and that it would be very kind of her to let him
say good-bye. He sent the note by a servant, and waited in the corridor
at a distance from her door.

A moment later she came out, very pale.

"You are not really going, are you?" she asked, with wide and startled
eyes. "You can't be in earnest?"

"I'm all ready," he answered, nodding slowly. "It's much better. I only
wanted to say good-bye, you know. It's awfully kind of you to come out."

"Oh--I wouldn't have--" but she checked herself, and glanced up and down
the long corridor. "We can't talk here," she added.

"It's so hot outside," said Brook, remembering how she had complained of
the heat an hour earlier.

"Oh no--I mean--it's no matter. I'd rather go out for a moment."

She began to walk towards the door while she was speaking. They reached
it in silence, and went out into the blazing sun. Clare had Brook's note
still in her hand, and held it up to shield the glare from the side of
her face as they crossed the platform. Then she realised that she had
brought him to the very spot whereon he had said good-bye to Lady Fan.
She stopped, and he stood still beside her.

"Not here," she said.

"No--not here," he answered.

"There's too much sun--really," said she, as the colour rose faintly in
her cheeks.

"It's only to say good-bye," Brook answered sadly. "I shall always
remember you just as you are now--with the sun shining on your hair."

It was so bright that it dazzled him as he looked. In spite of the heat
she did not move, and their eyes met.

"Mr. Johnstone," Clare began, "please stay. Please don't let me feel
that I have sent you away." There was a shade of timidity in the tone,
and the eyes seemed brave enough to say something more. Brook hesitated.

"Well--no--it isn't that exactly. I've heard something--my father has
told me something since I saw you--"

He stopped short and looked down.

"What have you heard?" she asked. "Something dreadful about us?"

"About