y grandmother's handwriting caught my eye. It must have
come since I went out; and there must be something in it to explain our
sudden departure.

"There is nothing wrong at Aghadoe, is there?" I asked, in sharp fear.

"I should have told you, Bawn, if there was. They are quite well."

I went out of the room into my own little room, where my trunks stood in
the middle, locked and labelled. The letter must have come immediately
after I had gone out. What could it contain that necessitated this
hurried flight? I looked around the little room where I had been happy
for a fortnight, and my eyes filled with tears. I had a feeling that I
should not come back to it.

While I stood there, miserably, I heard a knock at the hall door,
without attaching any significance to it. There was nothing left for me
to do--everything had been done for me; so I sat down in my hat and
jacket as I was, and gave myself up to a bitter regret. At the moment it
seemed the hardest and cruellest thing in the world that I should be
taken away from the place which held Anthony Cardew--where I might meet
him at any moment--and, so far as I could see, since my grandparents
were well, without adequate cause.

I had a sudden feeling as though they, as though my godmother, must know
that I loved Anthony Cardew and that he loved me in return. Of course,
it was impossible; but it seemed to be a foretaste of the opposition I
should have to face; and, although I could face it for his sake, yet it
struck me coldly that I should ever be in opposition to the will of
those who loved me so tenderly.

There was a tap at the door, and the little maid of the house came in,
with a sad face, to say that the cab was come.

"And, Miss Bawn," she added, "I found this in the letter-box for you,
when I went to call the cab."

I took the letter from her hand and my heart gave a great leap. I had
never seen my beloved's handwriting, but I had not a doubt that it was
his. Ah, so he had not left me in suspense! He had written to me to tell
me, surely, that he understood. He was not one to let a misunderstanding
come between us. How fortunate it was that I had told him where we were!
He must have left the letter himself. He had been so near me, and I had
not known.

I put down the letter with an indifferent air till the little maid had
left the room. When she had gone I snatched it up and was about to read
it, when my godmother called me, and then I thrust it into my bo