as we may on speculative points.
But allow me one more question, Sidwell. Does it seem to you that I
have no choice but to break off all communication with Mr Peak?'

It was the course dictated by his own wish, she knew. And what could be
gained by any middle way between hearty goodwill and complete
repudiation? Time--time alone must work out the problem.

'Yes, I think you have no choice,' she answered.

'Then I must make inquiries--see if he leaves the town.'

'Mr. Lilywhite will know, probably.'

'I will write before long.'

So the dialogue ended, and neither sought to renew it.

Martin enjoined upon his wife a discreet avoidance of the subject. The
younger members of the family were to know nothing of what had
happened, and, if possible, the secret must be kept from friends at
Exeter. When a fortnight had elapsed, he wrote to Mr. Lilywhite, asking
whether it was true that Peak had gone away. 'It seems that private
circumstances have obliged him to give up his project of taking Orders.
Possibly he has had a talk with you?' The clergyman replied that Peak
had left Exeter. 'I have had a letter from him, explaining in general
terms his change of views. It hardly surprises me that he has
reconsidered the matter. I don't think he was cut out for clerical
work. He is far more likely to distinguish himself in the world of
science. I suspect that conscientious scruples may have something to do
with it; if so, all honour to him!'

The Warricombes prolonged their stay in London until the end of June.
On their return home, Martin was relieved to find that scarcely an
inquiry was made of him concerning Peak. The young man's disappearance
excited no curiosity in the good people who had come in contact with
him, and who were so far from suspecting what a notable figure had
passed across their placid vision. One person only was urgent in his
questioning. On an afternoon when Mrs Warricombe and her daughters were
alone, the Rev. Bruno Chilvers made a call.

'Oh!' he exclaimed, after a few minutes' conversation, 'I am so anxious
to ask you what has become of Mr. Peak. Soon after my arrival in
Exeter, I went to see him, and we had a long talk--a most interesting
talk. Then I heard all at once that he was gone, and that we should see
no more of him. Where is he? What is he doing?'

There was a barely appreciable delay before Mrs. Warricombe made answer.

'We have quite lost sight of him,' she said, with an artificial smile