He spoke irritably, and was interrupted by the other with yet more irritation.

“Never mention that again to me as long as you live, Waymark If you do, we shall quarrel, understand!”

“I have no more pleasure in referring to it than you have,” said Waymark, more calmly; “but I must justify myself when you attack me.”

“How long has this been going on?” asked the other, after a silence.

“Some three months—­perhaps more.”

“Well, I think it would have been better if you’d been straightforward about it, that’s all.  I don’t know that I’ve anything more to say.  We know what we’re about, and there’s an end of it.”

So saying, the old man went out of the room.  There was a difference in him henceforth, something which Ida noticed, though she could not explain it.  On the following day he spoke with her on a matter she was surprised to hear him mention, her education.  He had been thinking, he said, that she ought to learn to play the piano, and be taught foreign languages.  Wouldn’t she like him to find some lady who could live in the house and teach her all these things?  Ida’s thoughts at once ran to the conclusion that this had been suggested by Waymark, and, when she found that her grandfather really wished it, gave a ready assent.  A week or two later the suitable person had been discovered—­a lady of some thirty years of age, by name Miss Hurst.  She was agreeable and refined, endowed. moreover, with the tact which was desirable in one undertaking an office such as this.  Ida found her companionship pleasant, and Mr. Woodstock con gratulated himself on having taken the right step.

At the same time that the governess came to the house, Waymark left it.  He returned to his old lodgings, and, with an independence which was partly his own impulse, partly the natural result of the slight coolness towards him which had shown itself in Mr. Woodstock, set to work to find a means of earning his living.  This he was fortunate enough to discover without any great delay; he obtained a place as assistant in a circulating library.  The payment was small, but be still had his evenings free.

Ida did not conceal her disappointment when Abraham conveyed this news to her; she had been hoping for better things.  Her intercourse with Waymark between his recovery and his leaving the house had been difficult, full of evident constraint on both sides.  It was the desire of both not to meet alone, and in Mr. Woodstock’s presence they talked of indifferent things, with an artificiality which it was difficult to support, yet impossible to abandon.  They shunned each other’s eyes.  Waymark was even less at his ease than Ida, knowing that Mr. Woodstock observed him closely at all times.  With her grandfather Ida tried to speak freely of their friend, but she too was troubled by the consciousness that the old man did not seem as friendly to Waymark as formerly.

“This will of course only be for a time?” she said, when told of Waymark’s new employment.