istle now reminded Justine
that the spot was not propitious to private talk. She halted a moment
before speaking.

"I have no answer to give you now but the one in my note--that I'll see
you tomorrow."

"But if you're sure of knowing tomorrow you must know now!"

Their eyes met, his eloquently pleading, hers kind but still
impenetrable. "If I knew now, you should know too. Please be content
with that," she rejoined.

"How can I be, when a day may make such a difference? When I know that
every influence about you is fighting against me?"

The words flashed a refracted light far down into the causes of her own
uncertainty.

"Ah," she said, drawing a little away from him, "I'm not so sure that I
don't like a fight!"

"Is that why you won't give in?" He moved toward her with a despairing
gesture. "If I let you go now, you're lost to me!"

She stood her ground, facing him with a quick lift of the head. "If you
don't let me go I certainly am," she said; and he drew back, as if
conscious of the uselessness of the struggle. His submission, as usual,
had a disarming effect on her irritation, and she held out her hand.
"Come tomorrow at three," she said, her voice and manner suddenly
seeming to give back the hope she had withheld from him.

He seized on her hand with an inarticulate murmur; but at the same
moment a louder whistle and the thunder of an approaching train reminded
her of the impossibility of prolonging the scene. She was ordinarily
careless of appearances, but while she was Mrs. Amherst's guest she did
not care to be seen romantically loitering through the twilight with
Stephen Wyant; and she freed herself with a quick goodbye.

He gave her a last look, hesitating and imploring; then, in obedience to
her gesture, he turned away and strode off in the opposite direction.

As soon as he had left her she began to retrace her steps toward
Lynbrook House; but instead of traversing the whole length of the
village she passed through a turnstile in the park fencing, taking a
more circuitous but quieter way home.

She walked on slowly through the dusk, wishing to give herself time to
think over her conversation with Wyant. Now that she was alone again, it
seemed to her that the part she had played had been both inconsistent
and undignified. When she had written to Wyant that she would see him on
the morrow she had done so with the clear understanding that she was to
give, at that meeting, a definite answer to h