He caught her in his arms and strained her yielding form in his embrace; their lips met and met again; a sweet agitation which grew into an ecstasy possessed them both; they seemed to reach and stand on a pinnacle of brightness and delight far removed from the grey levels on which moved ordinary men and women through the shadows of life; they murmured to each other the sweet foolish things that lovers always murmur, and in their ears never was diviner music. And as for Morris Thornton--why, Kitty said that he would be proud of Gilbert, and the very first thing she would do on his arrival would be to tell him that she was engaged. "Of course," added Kitty, "he will be pleased, because I am pleased." "Are you still here?" asked Ernest Eversleigh, who with his sister now walked up to the bench where the lovers were sitting. "We thought you were coming on after us, and we waited for you for some time, but as you did not turn up we came back again." And thus were the lovers brought down to the everyday world. "Is it time to go in?" asked Gilbert, who was unamiably wishing his brother at Jericho. "I should think it is--particularly if you intend to catch a train to town to-night," replied Ernest. "Let us go in," said Kitty, rising from the seat and linking her arm with that of Helen, somewhat to Gilbert's astonishment, until it occurred to him that she might wish to tell the other girl what had happened. The party--the girls first, the brothers in the rear--now returned to Ivydene, where on their entrance into the house they encountered Francis Eversleigh, looking haggard and ghastly; he had felt too unutterably wretched to stay in his room where his wife in vain sought to tend and soothe him, and had come downstairs to see if he could not find some distraction. Gilbert moved up to Kitty's side, and, as the two stood together, their faces were tell-tale. "Father," said Gilbert, blushing furiously, "Kitty has promised to be my wife." Helen Eversleigh rushed forward and threw her arms round Kitty's neck, exclaiming, "Oh, you dear!" while Ernest warmly shook his brother's hand, but their father stood stock-still. He tried to speak, but the words were choked in his throat. Again he essayed to say something, but could not. With a groan he suddenly turned from them and fled upstairs. "Father!" exclaimed Gilbert, calling after him. "What can be the matter with him, I wonder?" he said to Ernest, who merely answered that he could not tell. And then the two lovers looked at each other. They both felt that Francis Eversleigh had behaved very strangely. "I'm afraid Mr. Eversleigh is not at all well," said Kitty. "I am so sorry." "Yes, father must be ill," agreed Gilbert; "still, I think it can't be anything very serious. And now, I suppose I must go," he added with a sigh. The lovers bade each other good-bye in the porch. Absorbed in their happiness, they thought no more of Francis Eversleigh.