ll free."

"His hand still free!" muttered the Colonel, pursuing his walk alone.
"Yes--but three days hence--O--What will he do with it?"

CHAPTER XVI.

GUY DARRELL'S DECISION.

Guy Darrell returned home from Carr Vipont's dinner at a late hour.
On his table was a note from Lady Adela's father, cordially inviting
Darrell to pass the next week at his country-house; London was now
emptying fast. On the table too was a parcel, containing a book which
Darrell had lent to Miss Vyvyan some weeks ago, and a note from herself.
In calling at her father's house that morning, he had learned that Mr.
Vyvyan had suddenly resolved to take her into Switzerland, with the view
of passing the next winter in Italy. The room was filled with loungers
of both sexes. Darrell had stayed but a short time. The leave-taking had
been somewhat formal--Flora unusually silent. He opened her note, and
read the first lines listlessly; those that followed, with a changing
cheek and an earnest eye. He laid down the note very gently, again took
it up and reperused. Then he held it to the candle, and it dropped
from his hand in tinder. "The innocent child," murmured he, with a soft
paternal tenderness; "she knows not what she writes." He began to pace
the room with his habitual restlessness when in solitary thought--often
stopping--often sighing heavily. At length his face cleared-his lips
became firmly set. He summoned his favourite servant. "Mills," said he,
"I shall leave town on horseback as soon as the sun rises. Put what I
may require for a day or two into the saddle-bags. Possibly, however I
may be back by dinner-time. Call me at five o'clock, and then go round
to the stables. I shall require no groom to attend me."

The next morning, while the streets were deserted, no houses as yet
astir, but the sun bright, the air fresh, Guy Darrell rode from his
door. He did not return the same day, nor the next, nor at all. But,
late in the evening of the second day, his horse, reeking hot and
evidently hard-ridden, stopped at the porch of Fawley Manor-House; and
Darrell flung himself from the saddle, and into Fairthorn's arms. "Back
again--back again--and to leave no more!" said he, looking round; "Spes
et Fortuna valete!"

CHAPTER XVII.

A MAN'S LETTER--UNSATISFACTORY AND PROVOKING AS A MAN'S LETTERS
ALWAYS ARE.

GUY DARRELL To COLONEL MORLEY.

Fawley Manor-House, August 11, 18--. I HAVE decided, my dear Alban. I
did not take