but he did not
choose to show it.

They arrived at Cobourg, where he found his letters; and then the horses
were put up to bait, and they went to the hotel for luncheon.

Cecil expressed a hope that they would be able to return when the horses
were rested.

"Certainly," said her father; "we will drive back to dinner."

And, much relieved, she brightened up considerably.

Now the Colonel would rather have detained her long enough there to
ensure passing Du Meresq on the road; but the _ennui_ of spending so
many hours in so uninteresting a place, and the absence of any excuse
for waiting, favoured Cecil's wishes.

Still the time seemed interminable to her in that dusty inn parlour, with
its obsolete Annuals, cracked pianoforte, and ugly prints on the walls.
Surely no horses ever required so long a rest, and when her father
suggested ordering her some tea, it seemed almost like _malice prepense_
to occasion a further delay.

However, they were off at last, and as they rattled along in their shaky
conveyance, she became painfully conscious of its discomfort. Every jolt
was anguish, and her head and all her limbs were aching. Was it the
ducking yesterday, or only this dreadful springless buggy?

They reached the landing before any of the party had returned, and Cecil
sought her gable and threw herself on the bed, trusting to rest to remove
some of her unpleasant sensations.

As she closed her eyes, she fell into a not unhappy reverie. True, there
were opposition and difficulties to contend with, but Bertie was her own,
and she would never doubt him more. How disinterested and straightforward
he had been in freeing himself from debt before he spoke at all? Even her
father must acknowledge that; also that he had sufficient money for the
career he had chosen, and only valued her fortune as a security and
comfort to herself.

The unutterable luxury of being able to think of him unrestrained only
dated from yesterday; for before there was always the humiliating dread
that her idolatry was only returned in the same measure in which it was
distributed among his somewhat numerous loves. But now distrust had all
melted away, and she cared not for the many who had hooked, and lost,
since she had landed him.

Aroused by the splash of oars on the lake, Cecil tried to spring from
the bed, but her limbs were stiff and heavy, and she dragged herself
languidly to the window. They were all on the landing but Du Meresq, and
the