est she looked for tears and entreaties. Well, it
was over, and by Wednesday the house would be restored to its
ancient calm. Ancient, indeed! One could not believe that so short a
time had passed since Miss Derrick first entered the portals. Only
one more day.

'Oh, blindness to the future, kindly given, That each may fill the
circle marked by Heaven.' At school, Emmeline had learnt and recited
these lines; but it was long since they had recurred to her memory.

In ten minutes Louise had written her letter. She went out,
returned, and looked in at the drawing-room, with a pleasant smile.
'Good-night, Mrs. Mumford.' 'Good-night, Miss Derrick.' For the
grace of the thing, Emmeline would have liked to say 'Louise,' but
could not bring her lips to utter the name.

About a year ago there had been a little misunderstanding between
Mr. and Mrs. Mumford, which lasted for some twenty-four hours,
during which they had nothing to say to each other. To-night they
found themselves in a similar situation, and remembered that last
difference, and wondered, both of them, at the harmony of their
married life. It was in truth wonderful enough; twelve months
without a shadow of ill-feeling between them. The reflection
compelled Mumford to speak when his head was on the pillow.

'Emmy, we're making fools of ourselves. Just tell me what you have
done.'

'I can't see how _I_ am guilty of foolishness,' was the clear-cut
reply.

'Then why are you angry with me?'

'I don't like deceit.'

'Hanged if I don't dislike it just as much. When is that girl
going?'

Emmeline made known the understanding at which she had arrived, and
her husband breathed an exclamation of profound thankfulness. But
peace was not perfectly restored.

In another room, Louise lay communing with her thoughts, which were
not at all disagreeable. She had written to Cobb, telling him what
had happened, and asking him to let her know by Wednesday morning
what she was to do. She could not go home; he must not bid her do
so; but she would take a lodging wherever he liked. The position
seemed romantic and enjoyable. Not till after her actual marriage
should the people at home know what had become of her. She was
marrying with utter disregard of all her dearest ambitions all the
same, she had rather be the wife of Cobb than of anyone else. Her
stepfather might recover his old kindness and generosity as soon as
he knew she no longer stood in Cissy's way, and that she