“My darling,” she said, with a world of tenderness in her voice, “I shall enjoy anything with you as long as I live.” He looked at her for a minute with the strange dumb expression that was so peculiarly his own, and walked away. Mrs. Baines went back to the drawing-room, and shut the door with a manner that conveyed to the whole house that she wanted to be alone for a little space. She stood thoughtfully beside the chair on which he had sat. Suddenly she caught sight of her own face in the chimney-glass. She looked at it critically and winked slowly, she pulled the white handkerchief up a little higher round her throat and turned away satisfied. “He loves me,” she said, “I know he loves me, and no power on earth shall separate me from him. I will marry him if I walk to church without my shoes. I was faithless once, but this time I will be true.” She crept softly upstairs, and when she came down an hour later she was dressed and ready to depart. She went to the dining-room, where Florence in despair had had a little luncheon-tray brought in with sandwiches and biscuits on it. “My love,” she said, “I have finished the preparations for my journey; will you permit your servants to bring down my luggage? Steggalls’ man is coming immediately to drive me to the station. Thank you, but I do not need any refreshment.” “Aunt Anne, I can’t bear you to go,” poor Florence said in dismay. “I must go—I cannot stay,” the old lady answered solemnly, “and I beg you not to ask me to do so again.” “But you will come back?” Florence entreated. “No, I cannot,” Aunt Anne answered in the same voice. “You did not mean it, but you cut me to the quick last night; I have had no sleep since, my love. I must go away, I want to be alone. Besides, I have private business to transact. Thank you for all your goodness and hospitality to me, yours, and your dear ones. It has been a great privilege to be with you and the dear children since Walter went away, and to come here and see your second home.” She sat down for a moment by the buttery-hatch, turning a quick sharp glance as she did so to see that it was well closed, for one of her firm beliefs was that “servants were always ready to listen to the private speech of their employers.” As she seated herself, she looked as if she were trying to practise some of Mr. Wimple’s firmness. But Florence knelt lovingly by the old lady’s side, and put her pretty head down on the black merino dress. “I would not be unkind to you for the world,” she said, “you know I would not.” Mrs. Baines winked sorrowfully, but did not falter. “You were very unkind. You hurt me more than I can say,” she said coldly. Florence turned her lips towards the old lady’s hands, and kissed them. “Aunt Anne dear,” she said very softly, “you have no money——” Mrs. Baines stiffened herself, her voice became polite and distant.