He stooped, picked up something from the grass; she held out her arm to him with indolent grace. I suppose it was the bracelet he fastened on. In the act, he raised unchecked, that fair arm to his lips. I had not come there to watch them; besides, my heart was swelling fast within me. I turned away and again went to the front parlour. I sat by the windows. Ere long I heard some one in the passage; then the front door was opened; I saw Miriam pass slowly through the front garden, gather a rose, open the gate, and turn to her own door. Now at length I could speak to Cornelius. I ran out eagerly to the garden; he was not there. I called him; he did not answer. I went up-stairs and knocked at his room door; not there either was he; I sought the studio and peeped in with the same result. It was plain too he was gone out, and that I was alone in the house. I was not afraid, but felt the disappointment, and I sat down at the head of the staircase in a dreary, desolate mood. I had not been there more than a few minutes, when I heard a step coming up which I recognized as that of Cornelius. "Is that you, Daisy?" he asked, stopping short and speaking sharply. "Yes, Cornelius." "What are you doing here?" "I thought you were here, Cornelius." "You knew I was out." "No, Cornelius, I did not." "It is very odd; Miriam heard you answering me when I asked you from the garden if Deborah was come back." "Miss Russell must have been mistaken, Cornelius. I did not hear you, and I did not answer. I came here to look for you; indeed I did." "Very well," he replied, carelessly, "let me pass; I want to go up." I rose, but as I did so, I said again, "It was to look for you I came up here, Cornelius." I hoped he would ask me what I wanted with him, but he only replied, very coldly, "I never said the contrary," and he passed by me to enter the studio, where he began seeking for something. "What have you done with the matchbox?" he at length asked impatiently. "I never touched it. Cornelius: but if you want anything, you know I can find it for you without a light." He did not answer, but continued searching up and down. I pressed my services. "Let me look for it, Cornelius, I do not want a light, you know." "Thank you," he drily replied, "I have what I want now; but I must request you no longer to meddle with my books. I have just found on the floor the volume I left on the table. It puzzles me to understand what you can want in the studio at this hour." Thus speaking, he shut the door, locked it, and, putting the key in his pocket, he went downstairs without addressing another word to me. I felt so disconcerted, that every wish for explanation vanished; but even had it remained, the opportunity was not mine. When I followed him downstairs, I found him in the parlour with Kate, who was wondering "where Deborah could be?" "How is it you said Deborah was in?" asked Cornelius, turning to me. "I never said so, Cornelius."