I am just off--and Robin, too--summoned to poor Angey by this morning's letters. The operation is to take place at once. God grant it may be successful. You will feel for us, I know. Though I have scarcely a moment, I could not go without one word to you to explain my movements, though I hope to be back at The Fells in a day or two. I have so much to tell you, and to lay before you all that I have been thinking of, and I had planned for an uninterrupted hour or two to-day. I know you will not have misunderstood my recent silence, and when we meet, a few minutes will be better than pages of writing. Ever yours,-- Rex. _P.S._--Say nothing of this at present to _any one_. Imogen's mother read and re-read. Gradually her bewilderment gave place to delight--though delight strongly mixed with astonishment. She looked up at last. A little colour had by this time returned to the girl's cheeks. "Mamsey," she said, anxiously, "what does it mean?" "Darling," Mrs Wentworth replied, "it is rather for you to tell me; I had no idea, my pet, that things had gone _so_ far." But though her tone was playful, it failed to raise any smile on Imogen's face. "I don't know how you mean. _I_ had no idea that--" But here she stopped short. Imogen was really truthful, and the remembrance of her morning's cogitations just then returned inconveniently to her mind. Mrs Wentworth smiled. "I see," she said; "you do well to stop short, my pet. Well, well, poor old mothers must expect to be treated with reserve at such times, I suppose." Imogen raised herself on her elbow. "Mamma," she said, very gravely, "I am telling you the literal truth when I say that I did not in the least expect anything like this. Nothing that Major Winchester has said or done has led me to think that--that it was anything more than that he just liked me, and, in time, possibly--when I was older--" "You have been too unconscious, too simple and ingenuous to see it, my sweet. Thank God we have had to do with a good and honourable man, who has not taken advantage of your innocence," said Mrs Wentworth with a burst of real feeling. "But others have seen it, if you have not." "Have they?" said Imogen, opening her eyes. Then some of Trixie's remarks recurred to her, and she blushed a little. "Do you mean, mamsey," she went on, "that this," and she touched the letter, "is what one would call a proposal? It isn't like what they are in books." "It is almost _more_ than a proposal," her mother replied. "It is as if he was quite sure of you--as if you quite understood each other. Have you not given him more encouragement than you quite realise, my pet?" Imogen reflected. "He did say something last night about hoping for a good talk to-day-- something he wanted to say to me," she said, hesitatingly.