asually from Mr. Fraser
that Sir John and Lady Bellamy were going on a short trip abroad for
the benefit of the former's health. If she thought about the matter at
all, it was to feel rather glad. Angela did not like Lady Bellamy,
indeed she feared her. Of George she neither heard nor saw anything.
He had also gone away.

CHAPTER XLI

Meanwhile at Madeira matters were going on much as we left them; there
had indeed been little appreciable change in the situation.

For his part, our friend Arthur continued to dance or rather stroll
along the edge of his flowery precipice, and found the view pleasant
and the air bracing.

And no doubt things were very nicely arranged for his satisfaction,
and had it not been for the ever-present thought of Angela--for he did
think of her a great deal and with deep longing--he should have
enjoyed himself thoroughly, for every day was beautiful, and every day
brought its amusements with it. Perhaps on arriving at the Quinta Carr
about eleven o'clock, he would find that the steam launch was waiting
for them in a little bay where the cliff on which the house stood
curved inwards. Then, a merry party of young English folks all
collected together by Mrs. Carr that morning by the dint of superhuman
efforts, they would scramble down the steps cut in the rock and steam
off to some neighbouring islet to eat luncheon and wander about
collecting shells and flowers and beetles till sunset, and then steam
back again through the spicy evening air, laughing and flirting and
making the night melodious with their songs. Or else the horses would
be ordered out and they would wander over the lonely mountains in the
interior of the island, talking of mummies and all things human, of
Angela and all things divine. And sometimes, in the course of these
conversations, Arthur would in a brotherly way call Mrs. Carr
"Mildred," while occasionally, in the tone of a spinster aunt, she
would address him as "Arthur," a practice that, once acquired, she
soon found was, like all other bad habits, not easy to get rid of. For
somehow in all these expeditions she was continually at his side,
striving, and not without success, to weave herself into the substance
of his life, and to make herself indispensable to him, till at last he
grew to look upon her almost as a sister.

But beyond this he never went, and to her advances he was as cold as
ice, simply because he never noticed them, and