ink that I shall forget it."

"I don't know why it should make us altogether unhappy. For a time, I
suppose, we shall be down-hearted."

"I shall, I know. I can't pretend to such strength as to say that I
can lose what I want, and not feel it."

"We shall both feel it, Walter;--but I do not know that we must be
miserable. When do you leave England?"

"Nothing is settled. I have not had the heart to think of it. It will
not be for a month or two yet. I suppose I shall stay out my regular
Indian time."

"And what shall you do with yourself?"

"I have no plans at all, Mary. Sir Gregory has asked me to Dunripple,
and I shall remain there probably till I am tired of it. It will be
so pleasant, talking to my uncle of my father."

"Do not talk of him at all, Walter. You will best forgive him by not
talking of him. We shall hear, I suppose, of what you do from Parson
John."

She had seated herself a little away from him, and he did not attempt
to draw near to her again till at her bidding he rose to leave her.
He sat there for nearly an hour, and during that time much more was
said by her than by him. She endeavoured to make him understand that
he was as free as air, and that she would hope some day to hear that
he was married. In reply to this, he asserted very loudly that he
would never call any woman his wife, unless unexpected circumstances
should enable him to return and again ask for her hand. "Not that you
are to wait for me, Mary," he said. She smiled, but made no definite
answer to this. She had told herself that it would not be for his
welfare that she should allude to the possibility of a renewed
engagement, and she did not allude to it.

"God bless you, Walter," she said at last, coming to him and offering
him her hand.

"God bless you, for ever and ever, dearest Mary," he said, taking her
in his arms and kissing her again and again. It was to be the last,
and she did not seem to shun him. Then he left her, went as far as
the door,--and returned again. "Dearest, dearest Mary. You will give
me one more kiss?"

"It shall be the last, Walter," she said. Then she did kiss him,
as she would have kissed her brother that was going from her, and
escaping from his arms she left the room.

He had come to Loring late on the previous evening, and on that same
day he returned to London. No doubt he dined at his club, drank a
pint of wine and smoked a cigar or two, though he did it all after a
lugubrious fashion.