"Ah, there it is! He may not be sure of his own mind—he may still less be sure of Prue's mind. That self-restrained manner of hers is not easy to read. At all events, you know now how things stand." "I wish he would! It would be only too delightful!" "Well, you and I, of course, can do nothing. He must just please himself. Perhaps I feel a little more hopeful, after speaking to you—and I know it is safe! You will never breathe a word to anybody—least of all to Prue? . . . Tell me now all about yourself. I must not stay many more minutes." After Bertha's departure, Lettice stood again, gazing out of the window, busied in consideration. She did not quite see why Bertha had said so much. It seemed that the conversation could lead to no particular result. As Bertha had truly remarked, they could take absolutely no steps in the matter. If Mr. Kelly did not come forward of his own free will, no living person had power to induce him to do so. "And, after all, it may be a mere fancy," decided Lettice. "Mr. Kelly may have forgotten his old liking; and Prue may not really care any longer. Prue always seems contented." Then, to her surprise, she saw Mr. Kelly himself in the street, apparently steering a straight course for the front door—Mr. Kelly, with downward-bent head and intent visage, evidently much occupied with some subject mentally viewed. Lettice did not open the front door this time. "How odd that he should come now, just after Bertha's call! I have a great mind to make him talk about Prue, just for the sake of watching how he does it . . . Did Bertha think that perhaps I was getting to like him a little too well?" This idea flashed up unbidden, and Lettice burst into a soft fit of laughter. "O how absurd! Then she really came in Prue's interest. Dear Prue! Why, he is old enough to be my father!" "All alone, Miss Anderson?" Mr. Kelly surprised the laugh, only half completed; and he was not sure whether to be disconcerted, since it might be that she was laughing at him. "You seem very cheerful," he hazarded. "O yes: I am as cheerful as possible," Lettice answered, composing her face with all speed. "Please sit down. I have a good part of the day alone, of course. And sometimes my own thoughts amuse me." "Your mind to you, in fact, a kingdom is." "Not always, I am afraid." Mr. Kelly sank into profound silence. This was not his usual mode; and Lettice became speedily aware that he had something on his mind. He had been very friendly and pleasant of late, and she enjoyed a call from him; but the abstraction to-day became somewhat heavy. Lettice tried to get up a conversation, and there was no response. She spoke of Prue, and he only said, "Yes." "I don't think Prue is looking at all well?" hazarded Lettice. "No? Indeed?" "For a long time past. Ever since I came." "Ah, yes!" "And Bertha thinks the same. Bertha has just been to see me." "Yes, indeed," murmured Mr. Kelly.