‘Ah! that’s because of this trouble about poor Jenny; it has regularly upset us all. Shall you go over and see the Cramptons to-night, Harry?’ ‘No, no, I couldn’t. I have had enough bother already,’ replied Hindes, shrinking from the idea. ‘Of course, and perhaps they will not expect it; but you must write to them, for they will be anxiously expecting to hear some news of your journey.’ ‘So they will,’ he answered, as if the idea had only just struck him; ‘well, I will not write, I will go,’ and he rose to get his hat and stick, then suddenly turning to Hannah, he added,--‘it’s a fine night, will you go with me?’ She looked surprised at the request, but answered readily,-- ‘With pleasure, dear, if you will wait whilst I put on my hat and mantle.’ The brief walk to ‘The Cedars’ was accomplished in silence, but, as they reached the house, Hindes said to his wife,-- ‘Don’t repeat anything I told you; leave me to tell my own story, I want to save them as much pain as possible.’ They found the three old people sitting together and looking very forlorn. Mr Crampton had recovered his temper of the morning, and was seated in an arm-chair, huddled up behind his newspaper, and professed to take no interest in the conversation that ensued. The two women flew at Henry Hindes as soon as he appeared. ‘Oh, dear Mr Hindes! did you see her? What news do you bring us? Do not keep us in suspense; we implore you! Is she well? What did she say?’ ‘My dear friends,’ he answered, with assumed jocularity; ‘one at a time, if you please, and you must prepare yourselves for a disappointment. I haven’t seen her at all! I called twice at the hotel and they were out each time. What else could we expect? I’m afraid I went down on a wild goose chase. Such a lovely day! Where should a bride and bridegroom be but out of doors! I am afraid we must have patience till next week. Then, if Mr Crampton wishes it, I will go down again and make a second attempt to interview them.’ ‘Oh, dear, dear; I _am_ disappointed,’ sighed Mrs Crampton; ‘for I feel sure, if you had seen darling Jenny, that all would have been right!’ ‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ interposed her husband. ‘How can anything be right again since she has elected to marry that scoundrel? The jade has made her own bed, and she may lie on it, and I hope it’ll be a deuced hard one, too!’ ‘Don’t say that,’ replied Henry Hindes, quickly; ‘if it should be hard it is not _you_ that will make it so! I scribbled a line to her on my card to say I had brought her a message from home, so, if I am not very much mistaken, you will receive another letter from her before long.’ ‘Dear Mr Hindes, how can we ever thank you enough for the trouble you have taken on our behalf,’ said Mrs Crampton, as she slid her slender hand in his; ‘you are the truest and best friend we have. God bless you!’ But he could not stand the gentle pressure of her hand, nor the grateful intonation of her voice.