The latter part of the evening they spent with Mary, in whom Tarrant always found something new to admire.  He regarded her as the most wonderful phenomenon in nature—­an uneducated woman who was neither vulgar nor foolish.

Baby slept in a cot beside Nancy’s bed.  For fear of waking him, the wedded lovers entered their room very softly, with a shaded candle.  Tarrant looked at the curly little head, the little clenched hand, and gave a silent laugh of pleasure.

On the breakfast-table next morning lay a letter from Horace.  As soon as she had opened it, Nancy uttered an exclamation which prepared her companion for ill news.

’Just what I expected—­though I tried not to think so.  “I write aline only to tell you that my marriage is broken off.  You will know the explanation before long.  Don’t trouble yourself about it.  I should never have been happy with Winifred, nor she with me.  We may not see each other for some time, but I will write again soon.”  He doesn’t say whether he or she broke it off.  I hope it was Winifred.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Tarrant, ‘from the tone of that letter.’

’I’m afraid not, too.  It means something wretched.  He writes from his London lodgings.  Lionel, let me go back with you, and see him.’

‘By all means.’

Her gravest fear Nancy would not communicate.  And it hit the truth.

CHAPTER 4

They parted at Baker Street, Tarrant for his lodgings and the work that awaited him there, Nancy to go westward by another train.

When she reached the house from which her brother had dated his letter, it was half-past ten.  At the door stood a cab, and a servant was helping the driver to hoist a big trunk on to the top.

‘Is Mr. Lord still here?’ Nancy asked of the girl.

‘He’s just this minute a-goin’, miss.  This is his luggage.’

She sent her name, and was quickly led up to the first floor.  There stood Horace, ready for departure.

‘Why have you come?’ he asked, with annoyance.

‘What else could I do on hearing such news?’

’I told you I should write again, and I said plainly that it was better we shouldn’t see each other for some time.—­Why will people pester me out of my life?—­I’m not a child to be hunted like this!’

On the instant, he had fallen into a state of excitement which alarmed his sister.  There were drops of sweat on his forehead, and tears in his eyes; the blood had rushed to his cheeks, and he trembled violently.

‘I am so troubled about you,’ said Nancy, with anxious tenderness.  ’I have been looking forward with such hope to your marriage,—­and now—­’

’I can’t tell you anything about it just now.  It was all Mrs. Damerel’s doing; the engagement, I mean.  It’s a good thing I drew back in time.—­But I have a train to catch; I really mustn’t stay talking.’