to encourage all pleasant
anticipations--careful the while, at her husband's bidding and Harvey's
too, not to exaggerate the resources of Greystone for a mind and temper
such as Alma's. Of course the little town had its musical circle, in
which Mrs. Rolfe's talent would find an appreciative reception.
Touching on this point to her correspondent, Alma remarked, with
emphasised modesty, that she must _not_ be regarded as a professional
violinist; it would be better, perhaps, if nothing were said about her
'rather audacious experiment' in London. Meanwhile, a suitable house
was being looked for. There need be no hurry; Midsummer was the
earliest possible date for removal, and a few months later might prove
more convenient.

At Easter came Mary Abbott's wedding, which was celebrated as quietly
as might be. Alma had done her utmost to atone for bygone slights and
coldness; she and Mary did not love each other, nor ever could, and for
that reason they were all the more affectionate at this agitating time.
When all was over, the Rolfes set forth on their visit to Greystone.
Harvey could not look forward to complete enjoyment of the holiday, for
by this time Cecil Morphew had succumbed to his old habits of tossing
indolence, and only pretended to look after his business. If Harvey
withdrew, the shop must either be closed or pass into other hands.
Pecuniary loss was the least vexatious part of the affair. Morphew,
reckless in the ruin of his dearest hope, would seek excitement, try
once more to enrich himself by gambling, and so go down to the depths
whence there is no rescue. As a last hope, Harvey had written to
Henrietta Winter a long letter of all but passionate appeal; for answer
he received a few lines, infinitely sorrowful, but of inflexible
resolve. 'In the sight of God, Mr. Morphew already has a wife. I should
be guilty of a crime if I married him.' With a desperate ejaculation,
Rolfe crushed up the sheet of paper, and turned to other things.

Whilst she was at Greystone, Alma heard again from Felix Dymes, his
letter having been forwarded. He wrote that Mrs. Strangeways was about
to return to England, and that before long she might be heard of at a
certain hotel in London. As this letter had escaped Harvey's notice,
Alma was spared the necessity of shaping a fiction about it. Glad of
this, and all but decided to put Mrs. Strangeways utterly out of her
life and mind, she sent no answer.

But when she had been back ag