And so Edward bade his estimable parent farewell and departed.  Nor in truth did he require any admonition from Mr. Cossey, Senior, to make him anxious to do Colonel Quaritch an ill-turn if the opportunity should serve.  Mrs. Quest, in her numerous affectionate letters, had more than once, possibly for reasons of her own, given him a full and vivid resume of the local gossip about the Colonel and Ida, who were, she said, according to common report, engaged to be married.  Now, absence had not by any means cooled Edward’s devotion to Miss de la Molle, which was a sincere one enough in its own way.  On the contrary, the longer he was away from her the more his passion grew, and with it a vigorous undergrowth of jealousy.  He had, it is true, Ida’s implied promise that she would marry him if he chose to ask her, but on this he put no great reliance.  Hence his hurry to return to Boisingham.

Leaving London by an afternoon train, he reached Boisingham about half-past six, and in pursuance of an arrangement already made, went to dine with the Quests.  When he reached the house he found Belle alone in the drawing-room, for her husband, having come in late, was still dressing, but somewhat to his relief he had no opportunity of private conversation with her, for a servant was in the room, attending to the fire, which would not burn.  The dinner passed off quietly enough, though there was an ominous look about the lady’s face which, being familiar with these signs of the feminine weather, he did not altogether like.  After dinner, however, Mr. Quest excused himself, saying that he had promised to attend a local concert in aid of the funds for the restoration of the damaged pinnacle of the parish church, and he was left alone with the lady.

Then it was that all her pent-up passion broke out.  She overwhelmed him with her affection, she told him that her life had been a blank while he was away, she reproached him with the scarcity and coldness of his letters, and generally went on in a way with which he was but too well accustomed, and, if the truth must be told, heartily tired.  His mood was an irritable one, and to-night the whole thing wearied him beyond bearing.

“Come, Belle,” he said at last, “for goodness’ sake be a little more rational.  You are getting too old for this sort of tomfoolery, you know.”

She sprang up and faced him, her eyes flashing and her breast heaving with jealous anger.  “What do you mean?” she said.  “Are you tired of me?”

“I did not say that,” he answered, “but as you have started the subject I must tell you that I think all this has gone far enough.  Unless it is stopped I believe we shall both be ruined.  I am sure that your husband is becoming suspicious, and as I have told you again and again, if once the business gets to my father’s ears he will disinherit me.”

Belle stood quite still till he had finished.  She had assumed her favourite attitude and crossed her arms behind her back, and her sweet childish face was calm and very white.