ad started up abruptly and he was alone.
'Very odd of him,' thought Mark, until he saw him meeting the
Featherstones on their way back from the service.

Some minutes later, as Gilda and Caffyn were in a corner of the
exhibition of carved work at the lower end of the town, she took
advantage of the blaring of two big orchestral Black Forest organs,
each performing a different overture, and of the innumerable cuckoo
cries from the serried rows of clocks on the walls, to go back to
their conversation at the _table d'hote_. 'Have you asked him yet?
Mabel is not engaged to him after all?' (her face fell as she gathered
this). 'It is all a mistake, then? Of course it was a great relief to
_you_ to hear that?'

'Was it?' was Caffyn's rejoinder; 'why?'

'Why? Because--oh, of course you would be relieved to hear it!' and
Gilda made a little attempt to laugh.

'Shall I tell you something?' he said gravely. 'Do you know that I've
just begun to think nothing would give me greater satisfaction now
than to hear that the rumour you told me of was an accomplished fact.'

'And that Mabel was engaged to Mr. Ashburn? Do you really _mean_ it?'
cried Gilda, and her face cleared again.

'I really mean it,' said Caffyn smiling; and it is just possible that
he really did.

'Gilda, you're not helping me in the least!' said Mrs. Featherstone,
coming up at this juncture; 'and there's your father threatening to
get that big clock with a horrid cuckoo in it for the hall at the
Grange. Come and tell him, if he _must_ have one, to buy one of the
long plain ones.' And Gilda went obediently, for she could feel an
interest in clocks and carvings now.

CHAPTER XXV.

MABEL'S ANSWER.

The wet autumn had merged into a premature season of fog and slush,
while a violent gale had stripped off the leaves long before their
time. Winter was at hand, and already one or two of the hardier
Christmas annuals, fresh from editorial forcing-houses, had blossomed
on the bookstalls, and a few masks and Roman candles, misled by
appearances, had stolen into humble shop-fronts long before November
had begun. All the workers (except the junior clerks in offices, who
were now receiving permission to enjoy their annual fortnight) were
returning, and even idlers, who had no country-house hospitality to
give or receive, were glad to escape some of their burden amongst the
mild distractions of a winter in town. Mrs. Langton, who detested the
country, had per