eft her. She saw him a moment
later cross the garden, and flee away across the fields. She knew she
had seen that gray figure and jaunty gray hat for the last time; but she
hardly thought of him. She felt she might be sorry for him presently,
but not now.

The suspense was over. The sense of relief was too overwhelming to admit
of any other feeling at first. She dropped on her knees beside the
writing-table, and locked her hands together.

"_He told_," she whispered to herself. "Thank God! Thank God!"

Two happy tears dropped onto Mr. Alwynn's old leather blotting-book,
that worn cradle of many sermons.

Was this the same world? Was this the same sun which was shining in upon
her? What new songs were the birds practising outside? A strange
wonderful joy seemed to pervade the very air she breathed, to flood her
inmost soul. She had faced her troubles fairly well, but at this new
great happiness she did not dare to look; and with a sudden involuntary
gesture she hid her face in her hands.

It would be rash to speculate too deeply on the nature of Dare's
reflections as he hurried back to Atherstone; but perhaps, under the
very real pang of parting with Ruth, he was sustained by a sense of the
magnanimity of what, had he put it into words, he would have called his
attitude, and possibly also by a lurking conviction, which had assisted
his determination to resign her that life at Vandon, after the episode
of the American wife's arrival, would be a social impossibility,
especially to one anxious and suited to shine in society. Be that how it
may, whatever had happened to influence him most of the chance emotion
of the moment, it would be tolerably certain that in a few hours he
would be sorry for what he had done. He was still, however, in a state
of mental exaltation when he reached Atherstone, and began fumbling
nervously with the garden-gate. Charles, who had been stalking up and
down the bowling-green, went slowly towards him.

"What on earth do you mean by going off in that way?" he asked, coldly.

"Ah!" said Dare, perceiving him, "and she--the--is she gone?"

"Yes, half an hour ago. Your dog-cart has come back from taking her to
the station, and is here now."

Dare nodded his head several times, and stood looking at him.

"I have been to Slumberleigh," he said.

"Yes, contrary to agreement."

"My friend," Dare said, seizing the friend's limp, unresponsive hand and
pressing it, "I know now why you keep sile