fashion, saying, that in regard to his future welfare
she hoped that the gods would prove unkind. But had he known how to
read all that her letter expressed between the lines, he would have
perceived that her heart was more strongly moved than his own. Since
that time he had learned the lesson. There had been a letter or two;
and then there had been that walk in the wood on the Italian side of
the Tyrolese Alps. The reader may remember how he was hurried away
in the diligence for Innspruck, because it was considered that his
further sojourn in the same house with Imogene was dangerous. He had
gone, and even as he went had attempted to make a joke of the whole
affair. But it had not been quite a joke to him even then. There
was Imogene's love and Imogene's anger,--and together with these an
aversion towards the poor girl whom he intended to marry,--which
became the stronger the more strongly he was convinced both of
Imogene's love and of her anger.

Nevertheless, he persevered,--not with the best success, as has
already been told. Now, as he left the house in Lombard Street, and
wrote what was intended to be his last epistle to Gertrude, he was
driven again to think of Miss Docimer. Indeed, he had in his pocket,
as he sat at his club, a little note which he had lately received
from that lady, which, in truth, had disturbed him much when he made
his last futile efforts at Merle Park and in Lombard Street. The
little note was as follows;--

DEAR FRANK,

One little friendly word in spite of our storm on
the Tyrolese hill-side! If Miss Tringle is to be the
arbiter of your fate;--why, then, let there be an end of
everything between us. I should not care to be called upon
to receive such a Mrs. Frank Houston as a dear friend.
But if Tringle pere should at the last moment prove
hard-hearted, then let me see you again.--Yours,

I.

With this letter in his pocket he had gone down to Merle Park,
determined to put an end to the Tringle affair in one way or
the other. His duty, as he had planned it to himself, would not
be altered by Imogene's letter; but if that duty should become
impracticable, why, then, it would be open to him to consider
whatever Imogene might have to say to him.

The Docimers were now in London, where it was their custom to live
during six months of the year; but Houston had not been at their
house since he had parted from them in the Tyrol. He had spent but
little of