"It is incredible," said Bertram, "incredible, incredible!" But,
nevertheless, his voice showed plainly enough that the statement to
him was not incredible.

"Let it be so," said Harcourt, who purposely misunderstood him. "I do
not wish you to believe me. Let us leave it so. Come, it is time for
us to go back to town." But Bertram still sat silent, saying nothing.

Harcourt called the waiter, and paid the bill. He then told Bertram
what his share was, and commenced smoothing the silk of his hat
preparatory to moving. Bertram took out his purse, gave him the
necessary amount of shillings, and then again sat silent and
motionless.

"Come, Bertram, there will be only one train after this, and you know
what a crowd there is always for that. Let us go."

But Bertram did not move. "Harcourt, if you would not mind it," he
said, very gently, "I would rather go back by myself to-day. What you
have said has put me out. I shall probably walk."

"Walk to town!"

"Oh, yes; the walk will be nothing: I shall like it. Don't wait for
me, there's a good fellow. I'll see you to-morrow, or next day, or
before long."

So Harcourt, shrugging his shoulders, and expressing some surprise
at this singular resolve, put his hat on his head and walked off by
himself. What his inward reflections were on his journey back to
London we will not inquire; but will accompany our other friend in
his walk.

Hurriedly as it had been written, he remembered almost every word of
that letter from Paris. He knew that it had been severe, and he had
sometimes perhaps regretted its severity. But he knew also that the
offence had been great. What right had his affianced bride to speak
of him to another man? Was it not fit that he should tell her how
great was this sin? His ideas on the matter were perhaps too strong,
but they certainly are not peculiar. We--speaking for the educated
male sex in England--do not like to think that any one should tamper
with the ladies whom we love.

But what was this to that which she had since done? To talk of him
had been bad, but to show his letters! to show such a letter as that!
to show such a letter to such a person! to make such a confidence,
and with such a confidant! It could not be that she loved him; it
could not be but that she must prefer that other man to him.

As he thought of this, walking on hurriedly towards London on that
soft May night, his bosom swelled, but with anger rather than with
sorrow. It mus