y have not
moved?'

'Now I've got you!' laughed Caffyn; 'if the Langtons are the only
obstacle, you can't go and see them, for the very good reason that
they're away--abroad somewhere!'

'Are they all there?'

'Every one of 'em; even the father, I fancy, just now.'

'Do you know when they're likely to be back?'

'Haven't heard,' said Caffyn calmly; 'they must come back soon, you
see, for the lovely Mabel's wedding.'

Mark held his breath as he listened; what was Caffyn going to say
next? Vincent's face altered suddenly.

'Then Mabel--Miss Langton, is going to be married?' he asked in a
curiously quiet tone.

'Rather,' said Caffyn; 'brilliant match in its way, I understand. Not
much money on his side, but one of the coming literary fellows, and
all that kind of thing, you know; just the man for that sort of girl.
Didn't you know about it?'

'No,' said Holroyd uneasily; he was standing with his elbow on the
mantelpiece, with his face turned from the other two; 'I didn't
know--what is his name?'

'Upon my soul I forget--heard it somewhere.--Ashburn, you don't happen
to know it, do you?'

'I!' cried Mark, shrinking; 'no, I--I haven't heard.'

'Well,' continued Caffyn, 'it isn't of much consequence, is it? I
shall hit upon it soon, I dare say. They say she's deucedly fond of
him, though. Can't fancy disdainful Miss Mabel condescending to be
deucedly fond of any one--but so they tell me. And I say, Holroyd, to
come back to the point, is there any reason why you should stay in
town?'

'None,' said Holroyd, with pain ringing in his voice, 'none in the
world why I should stay anywhere now.'

'Well, won't you come with me? I start the first thing to-morrow--it
will do you good.'

'It's kind of you to ask,' said Vincent, 'but I can't desert Ashburn
in that way after he took the trouble to come down and meet me; we've
not seen one another for so long,--have we, Mark?'

Caffyn smiled in spite of himself. 'Why, didn't he tell you?' he said;
'he's arranged to go abroad himself in a day or two.'

Vincent glanced round at Mark, who stood there the personification of
embarrassment and shame. 'I see,' he said, with a change in his voice,
'I shall only be in the way here, then.' Mark said nothing--he could
not. 'Well, Caffyn, I'll come with you; the Lakes will do as well as
any other place for the short time I shall be in England.'

'Then you haven't come home for good?' inquired Caffyn.

'For good? no--not exact