Suddenly she withdrew her face from the blinds; young Meredith had entered the gate and was coming up the pavement. If anything could greatly have increased her happiness at this moment it would have been the sight of him. He had been with Isabel until late the night before; he had attended morning service and afterward gone home with his mother and brother (she had watched the carriage as it rolled away down the street); he had returned at this unusual hour. Such eagerness had her approval; and coupling it with Isabel's demeanor upon leaving the table the previous evening, never before so radiant with love, she felt that she had ground for believing the final ambition of her life near its fulfilment. As he advanced, the worldly passions other nature--the jungle passions--she had no others--saluted him with enthusiasm. His head and neck and bearing, stature and figure, family and family history, house and lands--she inventoried them all once more and discovered no lack. When he had rung the bell, she leaned back; in her chair and eavesdropped with sparkling eyes. "Is Miss Conyers at home?" The maid replied apologetically: "She wished to be excused to-day, Mr. Meredith." A short silence followed. Then he spoke as a man long conscious of a peculiar footing: "Will you tell her Mr. Meredith would like to see her," and without waiting to be invited he walked into the library across the hall. She heard the maid go upstairs with hesitating step. Some time passed before she came down. She brought a note and handed it to him, saying with some embarrassment: "She asked me to give you this note, Mr. Meredith." Listening with sudden tenseness of attention, Mrs. Conyers heard him draw the sheet from the envelope and a moment later crush it. She placed her eyes against the shutters and watched him as he walked away; then she leaned back in her chair, thoughtful and surprised. What was the meaning of this? The events of the day were rapidly reviewed: that Isabel had not spoken with her after breakfast; that she had gone to service at an unusual hour and had left the church before the sermon; that she had effaced herself at dinner and at once thereafter had gone up to her rooms, where she still remained. Returning to the sofa she lay down, having first rung her bell. When the maid appeared, she rubbed her eyelids and sat sleepily up as though just awakened: she remembered that she had eavesdropped, and the maid must be persuaded that she had not. Guilt is a bad logician. "Where is your Miss Isabel?" "She is in her room, Miss Henrietta." "Go up and tell her that I say come down into the parlors: it is cooler down here. And ask her whether she'd like some sherbet. And bring me some--bring it before you go."