er the reason, Maud behaved with unusual mildness to her
brother, and Jasper in turn was gently disposed to both the girls.

On the morning of the third day--it was Saturday--he kept silence
through breakfast, and just as all were about to rise from the table, he
made a sudden announcement:

'I shall go to London this afternoon.'

'This afternoon?' all exclaimed. 'But Monday is your day.'

'No, I shall go this afternoon, by the 2.45.'

And he left the room. Mrs Milvain and the girls exchanged looks.

'I suppose he thinks the Sunday will be too wearisome,' said the mother.

'Perhaps so,' Maud agreed, carelessly.

Half an hour later, just as Dora was ready to leave the house for her
engagements in Wattleborough, her brother came into the hall and took
his hat, saying:

'I'll walk a little way with you, if you don't mind.'

When they were in the road, he asked her in an offhand manner:

'Do you think I ought to say good-bye to the Yules? Or won't it
signify?'

'I should have thought you would wish to.'

'I don't care about it. And, you see, there's been no hint of a wish on
their part that I should see them in London. No, I'll just leave you to
say good-bye for me.'

'But they expect to see us to-day or to-morrow. You told them you were
not going till Monday, and you don't know but Mr Yule might mean to say
something yet.'

'Well, I had rather he didn't,' replied Jasper, with a laugh.

'Oh, indeed?'

'I don't mind telling you,' he laughed again. 'I'm afraid of that girl.
No, it won't do! You understand that I'm a practical man, and I shall
keep clear of dangers. These days of holiday idleness put all sorts of
nonsense into one's head.'

Dora kept her eyes down, and smiled ambiguously.

'You must act as you think fit,' she remarked at length.

'Exactly. Now I'll turn back. You'll be with us at dinner?'

They parted. But Jasper did not keep to the straight way home. First of
all, he loitered to watch a reaping-machine at work; then he turned into
a lane which led up the hill on which was John Yule's house. Even if he
had purposed making a farewell call, it was still far too early; all he
wanted to do was to pass an hour of the morning, which threatened to lie
heavy on his hands. So he rambled on, and went past the house, and took
the field-path which would lead him circuitously home again.

His mother desired to speak to him. She was in the dining-room; in the
parlour Maud was practising music.