‘Philippa,’ he says in a low tone, ’I have tried so hard to think badly of you, but to-day you looked so kindly at me, you did not do it for nothing, did you, Lippa tell me, will you bid me go away a second time?  I am not rich, but I might sell out and get some more remunerative employment, and if you only knew how I love you—­’

Miss Seaton has risen, her head bent down and slightly averted from her lover’s ardent gaze.  ‘I—­er—­I,’ she begins then pauses, and not knowing what to say she looks up, makes a step forward and is in Jimmy’s arms.

‘Oh,’ she says, ‘I thought it would all come right at last.’

‘Dearest,’ says he, ’tell me why were you so cruel before; you can’t think what I’ve suffered?’

‘So have I,’ is the reply.

‘But what made you do like that?’

‘It’s a long story, so don’t you think we might as well sit—­’

‘Sweetheart,’ is all he says pressing his lips to her brow.

And then Philippa explains all, for quite half-an-hour they remain alone, and then George, thinking they have been long enough together (he having come in and retired again unobserved in a very inauspicious moment) opens the door, at the same time giving vent to a very loud and prolonged cough.

CHAPTER X

‘My dear, I can’t tell you how glad I am,’ and Lady Dadford bustles across the room to the sofa where Mabel is reposing, ’Where is the sweet girl?’

‘Philippa? she is out now,’ replies Mrs Seaton, ’but I expect she will be in soon.’

‘Well, if I may, I should like to stay and see her,’ says the old lady, ’but you are sure I shall not be tiring you; directly you feel you have had enough of me, say so, won’t you?’

Mabel laughs and replies, ’I shall like you to stay very much, you have not seen baby yet; we cannot settle on a name.  I should like it to be called Lilian, but both George and Lippa say it would be unlucky; he, you know, always hopes we may find her again.’

‘And yourself, dear?’ asks Lady Dadford.

’I think I have almost given up hope now.  You know the body of a little child was found in a river, not far from L——­ (where we were living then) and it answered so much to the description of Lilian; she was such a dear little thing.  It is worse than if she had died at home and ...’

‘Yes, yes, I understand,’ says Lady Dadford, ’but I would not give up hope quite.  I agree with the old proverb, “Hope on, hope ever,” you know.  But tell me about Philippa? very happy, I suppose.’

‘Perfectly happy,’ replies Mabel.  ’I can’t imagine her as a wife, she’s such a child, but Jimmy is sure to take great care of her, and she has come into some money by her mother’s death.’

‘Ah yes! it must have been a very happy release, a very happy release,’ and Lady Dadford shakes her head gravely.  ’Did the dear child ever know anything about it?’