After a few more civil speeches it was arranged that Carr should, after all, leave by the train which he had proposed in the morning. It was found that there was still time for him to do so, but that was all. He was evidently as anxious to be off as the Danverses were that he should go. The dog-cart was ordered, a servant despatched to the lodge in hot haste to pack his portmanteau, and in half an hour he was bidding us good-bye, evidently glad to say it. Poor fellow! He little guessed, as he shook hands with us, how shamefully he had been suspected, how villanously he had been traduced behind his back. Somehow or other I had not had a moment of conversation with him since the morning, or a single chance of telling him how I had stood up for him in his absence. Either Charles or Marston were always at hand, and when he took leave of me I could only shake his hand warmly, and tell him to come and see me again in town. I watched him spinning down the drive in the dog-cart, little thinking how soon I should see him again, and in what circumstances. "We shall have more snow," said Ralph, coming in-doors. "I feel it in the air." General and Mrs. Marston were the next to leave, starting an hour later, and going in the opposite direction. I saw Marston turn aside, when his wife was taking leave of the others, and go up to Charles. The young hand and the old one met, and were locked tight. "Good-bye, my dear boy," said Marston. "Don't go," said Charles, without looking up. "I must!" said Marston. "I am due at Kemberley to-night, on business; but," in a lower tone, "I shall come back to-morrow, in case I can be of any use." They were gone, and I was the only one remaining. It has occurred to me since that perhaps they expected me to go too, but I never thought of it at the time. I had been asked for a week, and to go before the end of it never so much as entered my head. There was no chance of going out. The early winter afternoon was already closing in, and a few flakes of snow were drifting like feathers in the heavy air, promising more to come. Every one seemed to have dispersed, Ralph up-stairs to his father, Charles out-of-doors somewhere in spite of the weather. I remembered that I had not written to Jane since I left London, and went into the library to do so. As I came in I saw Evelyn sitting in a low chair by the fire, gazing abstractedly into it. She started when she saw me, and on my saying I wished to write some letters, showed me a writing-table near the fire, with pens, ink, and paper. "You will find it very cold at the big table in the window," she said, looking at it with its broken drawer, a chink open, with a visible shudder. I installed myself near the fire, talking cheerfully the while, for it struck me she was a little low in her spirits. She did not make much response, and I was settling down to my letters when she suddenly said: "Colonel Middleton!" "Yes, Miss Derrick."