nothing! Nobody knows anything. But everything always
comes clear sometime."

At the verge of the town, apparently coming to meet them, she saw
Nathanael--saw him a long way off. Her heart leaped at the first vision
of the tall slender figure and light hair; but when he approached she
was walking steadfastly along. Her eyes lowered, and her mouth firm set.
He came up, silently gave her his arm, and she took it as silently.

Mr. Dugdale and her husband immediately began to talk, so there was no
need for Agatha to do anything but walk on, trying to remember where she
was, and what course of conduct she had to pursue; trying above all to
repress these alternate storms of anger and lulls of despair, and deport
herself not like a passionate child, but a reasonable woman--a woman
who, after all, might have been heavily wronged.

Sometimes she essayed to consider this--to recall, as is so difficult
always, the original cause of difference, the little cloud which had
produced this tempest--but everything was in an inextricable maze.

Ere long, Nathanael's silence warned her that they two were alone, Mr.
Dugdale having made himself absent, and being seen afar off, diving into
a knot of market-politicians. Arm-in-arm the husband and wife passed
on through the street. Agatha pulled her veil down, and caught more
steadfast hold of her husband's arm--he was her husband, and she would
maintain their honour in the world's sight. She felt how many curious
eyes were watching them from windows--how many gossiping tongues would
be passing comment on the looks and demeanour of Mr. and Mrs. Locke
Harper.

"Shall we go over the house now, or would you like to call for my
sister?"

"No--we will go at once," returned Agatha.

Steadfastly--mechanically--the young husband and wife looked over their
future home, which was all but ready for habitation. It was not a mean
abode now; to Mr. Wilson's furniture had been added various comforts
and luxuries. Agatha asked no questions--scarcely noticed anything. She
merely moved about, trying to sustain her position in the eyes of the
work-people that showed her round the house; stopping a minute to speak
kindly to the servant who was already installed there, and who, dropping
a dozen respectful curtsies, explained that she was the daughter of
"Master Nathanael's" nurse.

Everything seemed arranged for Mrs. Harper's comfort, as by invisible
hands. She never inquired, or even thought, who was the