"How can I do this mean thing?" he repeated again and again to himself. "Even if Langley be right, and she has grown to care for me, it may be only temporary, and she has seen no one else. Ought we not to urge her rather to leave Hepshaw and take her proper position in the world! It may be a dangerous test perhaps, as Langley says, and it may end in my losing her altogether, for how can I give her her freedom and expect her to be faithful? but at least my conscience will be clear." And then he swore to himself that, as far as he was concerned, he would not coerce her movements. If she went his judgment would applaud her resolution; if she stayed his trouble would be a hard thing to bear, for he must then wrap himself up in reserve and coldness, and this would be difficult to him. "She cannot really misunderstand me, the thing is too evident," he said, striving to comfort himself. And indeed he was not without some interior consolation; his very self-sacrifice and unselfishness, constrained and unnecessary as they might appear to others, gave him a certain feeling of strength and security. His conscience was clear, his independence assured and well-defined, while somewhere, deep down in some hidden recess, lay a secret hope of Queenie's steadfastness and fealty. Langley's words still rang sweetly in his ears: "She will stand the test, severe as it is, but she will suffer terribly." Ah! well, would he not suffer too? But this meeting was painful to him. What was he to say to her? and how was he to bring himself to speak of what was in his mind without betraying his hidden trouble, and perhaps hurting her feelings? "Were you going to see Langley?" he asked, just when the silence was becoming embarrassing. "Yes; is she at home?" returned Queenie venturing to raise her eyes, and then becoming conscious all at once of Garth's paleness, and evident constraint of manner. "She was sitting at her needlework when I left her just now, and was lamenting that Cathy was not there to help her. I think we miss Cathy more and more every day." "I know I do," sighed Queenie, and there came over her a sudden yearning to unbosom herself to this faithful friend. Langley was good to her, but she was not Cathy. Garth echoed the sigh, but scarcely for the same reason. Cathy's warm-hearted sympathy would not have helped him. "I have just left Miss Cosie. Mr. Clayton, have you nothing to say to me, nothing special, I mean?" Queenie was growing desperate, while Garth was secretly marvelling at her boldness. His paleness and changed looks filled her with dismay. "I think you must have something to say to me," with a little sharpness in her voice. That roused him in a moment. "Yes; of course we have a great deal to say to you, Miss Marriott. I told Langley last night that she ought to write to you. I need hardly tell you, I suppose, that you have our warmest congratulations on your good fortune?"