The Bishop (quite between you and me!) though a very dear man and a very good Christian, is not a person of great intellect.  My husband would never enter into controversy with him, as he said it was useless to strive in argument with a mind not sure of its bearings!  An opinion of the Bishop’s would not, therefore, weigh much with me.  But there is an element of truth in the contention as to the damp.  Old houses are damp at times.  Little Cloisters, placed as it is in the shadow of the Cathedral, doubtless suffers in some degree from this defect.  My doctor here,—­such a clever man!—­though very reluctant to prevent me from returning home, confessed to-day that he thought my case needed careful watching by some one who knew.  Now (between you and me), nobody knows in Welsley, and therefore, after weighing pros and cons, and undergoing an hour of mental treatment—­merely the silent encouragement and purification of the will—­by an expert here, I have decided to remain for the winter.  I am willing, therefore, to extend your lease for another six months on the terms as before.  Perhaps you will kindly visit my solicitor, Mr. Collingwood of Cattle Market Lane,—­but you are sure to know his address!—­who will arrange everything legally with you.—­With my kindest regards and all good wishes, believe me, dear Mrs. Leith, always sincerely yours,

“IMOGENE DUNCAN BROWNING.”

It was Beattie’s last morning at Little Cloisters; she had settled to go back to De Lorne Gardens in the afternoon of that day.  Rosamund read Mrs. Browning’s letter sitting opposite to her sister at the breakfast-table in the small, paneled dining-room.  At the same time Beattie was reading a letter from Guy.  As she finished it she looked up and said: 

“Anything interesting?”

“What does Guy say?” replied Rosamund.  “Oh, here’s a letter from godfather!  Perhaps he’s coming down.”

Rather hastily she tore open another envelope.

Later on in the morning, when Beattie was doing mysterious things in the garden with Robin, Rosamund slipped out alone and made her way to Cattle Market Lane.  She came back just before lunch, looking unusually preoccupied.

The day after Beattie had returned to London, a note from Rosamund told her that the lease of Little Cloisters had been renewed for another six months, till the end of March, 1901.

“And if old Dion comes back in the meanwhile, as I fully expect he will?” said Guy, when Beattie told him of Rosamund’s note.

“I suppose it is possible to sublet a house,” said Beattie, looking unusually inexpressive, Guy thought.

“They say at the Clubs the C.I.V. will be back before Christmas, Beattie,” said Guy.

“The Tenbys’ lease of Number 5 is up.”

“Yes, but do you think Dion can afford to run two houses?”

“Perhaps——­” she stopped.

“I don’t believe Rosamund will ever be got out of Welsley,” said Guy. 
“And I’m pretty sure you agree with me.”