of time.  The winter weather was not severe; not seldom a thin gleam of sunshine would pass from grave to grave, and give promise of spring in the said reign of the year’s first month.  Emily was almost the only visitor at the hour she chose.  She had given directions for the raising of a stone at the grave-head; as yet there was only the newly-sodded hillock.  Close at hand was a grave on which friends placed hot-house flowers, sheltering them beneath glass.  Emily had no desire to express her mourning in that way; the flower of her love was planted where it would not die.

But she longed to bring her time of waiting to an end.  The steps she had as yet taken had led to nothing.  She had not requested Mrs. Baxendale to make inquiries for her, and her friend, thinking she understood the reason, did not volunteer assistance, nor did she hear any particulars of the correspondence that went on.  Ultimately, Emily communicated with her acquaintances in Liverpool, who were at once anxious to serve her.  She told them that she would by preference find a place in a school.  And at length they drew her attention to an advertisement which seemed promising; it was for a teacher in a girls’ school near Liverpool.  A brief correspondence led to her being engaged.

She was in perfect readiness to depart.  For a day or two she had not seen Mrs. Baxendale, and, on the afternoon before the day of her leaving Banbrigg, she went to take leave of her friends.  It was her intention to visit Mrs. Baxendale first, then to go on to the Cartwrights’.  As it rained, she walked to Pendal and took train for Dunfield.

At Dunfield station she was delayed for some moments in leaving the carriage by travellers who got out before her with complexities of baggage.  To reach the exit of the station she had to cross the line by a bridge, and at the foot of this bridge stood the porter who collected tickets.  As she drew near to him her eyes fell upon a figure moving before her, that of a young man, wearing thick travelling apparel and carrying a bag.  She did not need to see his face, yet, as he stopped to give up his ticket, she caught a glimpse of it.  The train by which she had travelled had also brought Wilfrid to Dunfield.

She turned and walked to a little distance away from the foot of the stairs.  There was no room that she could enter on this platform.  She dropped her black veil, and seated herself on a bench.  In truth she had a difficulty in standing, her body trembled so.

For five minutes she remained seated, calming herself and determining what course to take.  She held it for certain that Wilfrid had come at Mrs. Baxendale’s bidding.  But would he go to that house first, or straight to her own?  With the latter purpose he would probably have left the train at Pendal.  She would have time to get home before he could come.  At this moment a train was entering the station on the other side.  She hurried over the bridge, and, without stopping to obtain a ticket, entered a carriage.