remarks which made this inevitable.  But. not until now had Jane really felt the significance of the bond.  Of a sudden she had a throbbing at her heart, and a confusion of mind which would not allow her to pursue the direct train of thought naturally provoked by the visit she had just paid.  A turbid flood of ideas, of vague surmises, of apprehensions, of forecasts, swept across her consciousness.  The blood forsook her cheeks.  But that the old man began to move away, she could have remained thus for many minutes, struggling with that new, half-under. stood thing which was taking possession of her life.

The disappointment of the day. was no longer simple, and such as a child experiences.  Nor ever from this hour onwards would Jane regard things as she had been wont to do, with the simple feelings of childhood.

Snowdon walked on in silence until the street they had visited was far behind them.  Jane was accustomed to his long fits of musing, but now she with difficulty refrained from questioning him.  He said at length: 

‘Jane, I’m afraid we shall have to give up our day in the country.’

She assented readily, gladly; all the joy had gone out of the proposed excursion, and she wished Dow to be by herself in quietness.

‘I think I’ll let you go home alone,’ Snowdon continued.  ’I want to see Mr. Kirkwood, and I dare say I shall find him in, if I walk on at once.’

They went in different directions, and Snowdon made what speed he could to Tysoe Street.  Sidney had already been out, walking restlessly and aimlessly for two or three hours.  The news he now heard was the half-incredible fulfilment of a dread that had been torturing him through the night.  No calamity is so difficult to realise when it befalls as one which has haunted us in imagination.

‘That means nothing!’ he exclaimed, as if resentfully.  ’She was dissatisfied with the lodging, that’s all.  Perhaps she’s already got a place.  I dare say there’s a note from her at home this morning.’

‘Shall you go and see if there is?’ asked Snowdon, allowing, as usual, a moment’s silence to intervene.

Sidney hesitated, avoiding the other’s look.

’I shall go to that house first of all, I think.  Of course I shall hear no more than they told Jane; but—­’

He took a deep breath.

‘Yes, go there,’ said Snowdon; ‘but afterwards go to the Hewetts’.  If she hasn’t written to them, or let them have news of any kind, her father oughtn’t to be kept in ignorance for another hour.’

‘He ought to have been told before this,’ replied Sidney ill a thick under-voice.  ’He ought to have been told on Saturday.  And the blame’ll be mine.’