the rather bustled breakfast, Althea suggested
to him that a walk together when her guests were gone would be nice, and
Gerald had genially acquiesced. A little packet of letters lay beside
Gerald's plate and a larger one by Althea's, hers mainly from America as
she saw, fat, friendly letters, bearing the Boston postmark; a thin note
from Franklin in London also, fixing some festivity for the coming week
no doubt; but Sally and Mrs. Peel engaged her attention, and she
postponed the reading until after they were gone. She observed, however,
in Gerald's demeanour during the meal, a curious irritability and
preoccupation. He ate next to nothing, drank his cup of coffee with an
air of unconsciousness, and got up and strolled away at the first
opportunity, not reappearing until Mrs. Peel and Sally were making their
farewells in the hall. He and Althea stood to see them drive off, and
then, since she was ready for the walk, they went out together.

It was a damp day, but without rain. A white fog hung closely and
thickly over the country, and lay like a clogging, woollen substance
among the scattered gold and russets of the now almost leafless trees.

Gerald walked beside Althea in silence, his hands in his pockets.
Althea, too, was silent, and in her breast was an oppression like that
of the day--a dense, dull, clogging fear. They had walked for quite ten
minutes, and had left the avenue and were upon the high road when
Gerald said suddenly, 'I've had some news this morning.'

It was a relief to hear that there was some cause for his silence
unconnected with her own inadequacy. But anger rose with the relief; it
must be some serious cause to excuse him.

'Have you? It's not bad, I hope,' she said, hoping that it was.

'Bad? No; I don't suppose it's bad. It's very odd, though,' said Gerald.
He then put his hand in his breast-pocket and drew out a letter. Althea
saw that the writing on the envelope was Helen's. 'You may read it,'
said Gerald.

The relief was now merged in something else. Althea's heart seemed
standing still. It began to thump heavily as she opened the letter and
read what Helen wrote:

'DEAR GERALD,--I have some surprising news for you; but I hardly
think that you will be more surprised than I was. I am going to
marry Mr. Kane. I accepted him some days ago, but have been getting
used to the idea since then, and you are the first person, after
Aunt Grizel, who knows. It will be ann