"You will let me know what you decide," said Bennet, after an interval of silence. "Yes. I'll write you. And now good-bye," said Kitty; "I feel tired and worn out." When Bennet had gone, Kitty braced herself for the painful tasks which lay before her. First of all, she told Mrs. Eversleigh that she was going to Yorkshire next day, and though Mrs. Eversleigh said very little, the girl saw that she was hurt, offended, and greatly mystified. And Helen Eversleigh, Kitty could not but notice, thought her conduct strange. But neither of the Eversleigh ladies pressed her for an explanation, for which Kitty was thankful. But infinitely the hardest thing was what she should say to Gilbert. She sat down in her room with a sheet of paper before her, but for a long while she could not bring herself to touch her pen. How she wished she could tell him something of the truth--tell him that she was not the false, fickle light o' love he must think her! Again she had to fight the battle with herself, and again she triumphed. It was a very short letter, but it was written in her heart's blood. "Dear Gilbert," it ran, "I have changed my mind. Our engagement must be broken off. I intend marrying Mr. Bennet.--KITTY." CHAPTER XXV Ever since the discovery of Morris Thornton's body in Silwood's rooms, in Stone Buildings, Gilbert Eversleigh had constantly felt that he moved in an atmosphere of mystery, which affected him so closely that he could not but be very uncomfortable. He attempted in various ways to get further light, but without success. Another thing which worried him not a little was the poor health of his father, and the increasing disinclination the latter showed to attend to business. Over against these disquieting circumstances there were to be set Kitty's love for him, and his love for her, which far over-balanced them. That morning Gilbert, when he awoke, first thought of Kitty, and promised himself that, as he and she had arranged, they would have a long splendid time together that very day. When he went in to breakfast, a small pile of letters lay on the table beside his plate. He took them up and scanned the writing of the addresses. Of course, he at once recognized Kitty's writing. For a moment he held her letter in his hand, a happy smile on his face, and was about to open it, but he put it down again, saying to himself that he would keep it to the last as a special treat. So he went through the rest of his correspondence, and read it rather slowly, to put off the moment of delight which should be his when he came to the girl's letter. At last he opened her letter.