Mrs. Valentine could have said "No!" with all her heart, but she hesitated. Would it be true? "I suppose there must always be a difference between twenty-one and thirty," she said. "Not in my eyes, but to outsiders." Disappointment stole over Prue's face. "Yes, of course," she said in flat tones. "But still—" "He would see the old look still. Anybody must." "If he takes the trouble to think about the matter." "He has fresh interests now. I hardly expect the old intimacy to revive—do you? We must expect to be merely one family among hundreds." Prue could have given vent to a rebellious protest. She said: "Only he has known us, and he has not known them." Then the door opened to admit a caller, taking them both by surprise. For it was none other than Mr. Kelly. Mrs. Valentine welcomed him, after her kind and placid manner, casting not a glance towards her daughter; and Prue held back somewhat coldly. Light and colour had fled from her countenance. How should it be otherwise, when she was utterly in the dark as to his sensations? She was conscious of a quick heart-beating, quick enough to shorten her breath; but all tokens of agitation were veiled; and her "How do you do?" was emotionless. Beforehand she had not looked for this prosaic type of meeting. The prominent idea in her mind had been her own pleasure in seeing him. Not till the actual moment arrived did the reverse side of the picture present itself, the possibility that he might experience no particular pleasure; and not till then did she see the imperative need to hide aught which she might feel, lest he should not feel the same. Prue acted her part so well that Mr. Kelly had no part to act. Ere merely had to greet her as he had greeted hundreds in his new Parish; and if a slight touch of disappointment came to him also, it was mingled with something like relief. He had been so long a bachelor for Prue's sake, that he was not now at all certain whether, even for Prue's sake, he wished to be anything else; and yet he was glad to see that Prue remained distinctively herself. More gone off in looks, perhaps, than he had expected; but still unlike any other woman of his acquaintance. At least Prue would never be ordinary. "So many years since we saw you last," Mrs. Valentine was saying. "Yes, indeed." He was glad to turn from Prue, and to put on one side awakening recollections. "When I found your husband's card, I felt sure that it must be yourselves. It was an agreeable surprise. Are you spending a summer in Town?" "We have come to live here. Our old home is given up." "Not permanently?" "It is sold."