"Dreadful!" cried Renee, "I feel at times that I cannot bear it. Come away: he has seen us, and is coming here." "Is--is that Mr Huish?" whispered Gertrude, gazing in another direction. "Yes. Who is the dark lady on his arm?" "I do not know," said Gertrude quietly. "Some friend, perhaps; but, look, is not that Frank?" She drew her sister's attention towards a phaeton in which Frank Morrison was driving a handsome-looking woman dressed in the height of fashion; and directly Renee saw him plainly the Major came up. "What a delightful meeting, Miss Millet!" he said. "Mrs Morrison, I hope I shall not be _de trop_?" "My husband's friends have too great a claim on me," said Renee quietly, as she left her seat and moved in the direction of her own home; but she kept glancing in the direction taken by the phaeton. It was cleverly-managed, and as if Malpas knew exactly when the carriage would next come by, timing his place so well that the sisters were close to the railings as the dashing pair scattered some of the earth over the young wife's dress. "Who is that with Frank Morrison, Major Malpas?" said Gertrude quickly. "I beg your pardon?" he said. "That fashionably-dressed lady in my brother-in-law's phaeton. There they go." "Indeed!" said the Major. "I was not looking. Are you sure it was he?" "Certain," replied Gertrude. "My dear Mrs Morrison, is anything the matter?" cried the Major, with a voice full of sympathy. "No, nothing," said the young wife, who was now deadly pale. "May I ask you--to leave us?" "Yes," he said earnestly; "but I shall not go. Pray take my arm. Miss Millet, your sister is ill. I fear you have been imprudent and have taxed her strength. I must see her safely home, or I could not face Morrison again." "He haunts me!" thought Gertrude to herself, as she recalled her sister's words, and found that the Major persisted in walking by her side till they reached Chesham Place, where, murmuring his satisfaction that Renee seemed better, he left the sisters in the hall. "All things come to the man who waits," he muttered to himself, as he went off smiling. "Renee," said Gertrude, as soon as they were alone, "have you ever encouraged him in any way since your marriage? How is it he seems to have such a hold upon you?" "I do not know--I cannot tell," said Renee wearily, as, with brow contracted, she sat thinking of the scene in the Park. "But do not mention him--do not think of him, Gertrude dear; he is as nothing in face of this new misery." "New misery?" said Gertrude innocently. "Yes," cried Renee passionately; "do you not see? Oh, Frank, Frank!" she moaned, "why do you treat me so?" Gertrude, upon whom all this came like a revelation, strove to comfort her, and to point out that her fears might be mere exaggerations, but her sister turned sharply.