'No, I suppose not. And I'm very sorry, and if you'll let me beg your pardon--. There, and we might have made it up hours ago. I won't ask you to tell me what you think of Mr. Cobb. I've written him the kind of letter his impudence deserves.' 'Very well. We won't talk of it any more. And if you _could_ be a little quieter in your manners, Louise--' 'I will, I promise I will! Let me say good-night to Mr. Mumford.' For a day or two there was halcyon weather. On Saturday afternoon Louise hired a carriage and took her friends for a drive into the country; at her special request the child accompanied them. Nothing could have been more delightful. She had quite made up her mind to have a house, some day, at Sutton. She hoped the Mumfords would "always" live there, that they might perpetually enjoy each other's society. What were the rents? she inquired. Well, to begin with, she would be content with one of the smaller houses; a modest, semidetached little place, like those at the far end of Cedar Road. They were perfectly respectable--were they not? How this change in her station was to come about Louise offered no hint, and did not seem to think of the matter. Then restlessness again came upon her. One day she all but declared her disappointment that the Mumfords saw so few people. Emmeline, repeating this to her husband, avowed a certain compunction. 'I almost feel that I deliberately misled her. You know, Clarence, in our first conversation I mentioned the Kirby Simpsons and Mrs. Hollings, and I feel sure she remembers. It wouldn't be nice to be taking her money on false pretences, would it?' 'Oh, don't trouble. It's quite certain she has someone in mind whom she means to marry before long.' 'I can't help thinking that. But I don't know who it can be. She had a letter this morning in a man's writing, and didn't speak of it. It wasn't Mr. Cobb.' Louise, next day, put a point-blank question. 'Didn't you say that you knew some people at West Kensington?' 'Oh, yes,' answered Emmeline, carelessly. 'The Kirby Simpsons. They're away from home.' 'I'm sorry for that. Isn't there anyone else we could go and see, or ask over here?' 'I think it very likely Mr. Bilton will come down in a few days.' Louise received Mr. Bilton's name with moderate interest. But she dropped the subject, and seemed to reconcile herself to domestic pleasures. It was on the evening of this day that Emmeline received a letter which gave her much annoyance. Her sister, Mrs. Grove, wrote thus: