The few days’ leave had gone like a flash, and the end of the week found Mrs. Fenchurch at home, where, to borrow a military expression, ‘all were present and correct,’ although Tom was a little gouty and Letty looked pale--she must get her a tonic. Young Lumley had departed, Mr. Blagdon had not yet appeared--so far the coast was clear, and all was well! Perhaps if Mrs. Fen had been behind the scenes she might have modified her opinion; but she did not know of those delightful skating parties on Barnby Mere. Letty and Lancelot skated admirably, better than any other couple; and skimmed round together at a racing pace, with the frosty air stinging their faces, the bright red sunset giving a colour to the cold, wintry scene. How was she to know of that evening at Oldcourt, when Letty sang Tosti’s “Good-bye,” with thrilling pathos, and Lumley, sitting in the shadow, had listened with folded arms, and a face of rigid pallor? How could she dream of their last walk with the Rector and Mrs. Hesketh, when they two lagged behind, at the crooked bridge in order to watch the gorgeous sunset, and Lumley said in a strange, husky voice: “I’m off to-night--God knows when we shall meet again--but you know, Letty; you _know_----” Letty’s heart leaped at the sound of her Christian name. She looked away, fixing her gaze on a great clump of snow-bound rushes, and awaited the end of the sentence with a thumping pulse. He was about to tell her what she longed to hear; but Lumley hesitated and controlled himself,--biting back words that crowded to his lips. He had all but succumbed to a fierce temptation to assure this little girl that he adored her. Then came the voice of the Rector through the thin, frosty air, calling in a high, clerical monotone: “Come on, come on, Lance; you have no time to spare! come on--come on.” And they turned to obey this summons without a second’s hesitation, for though no word--no word of love--was uttered, the silence had spoken; the long self-conscious silence between these two young people--and silence can be eloquent! CHAPTER VII The afternoon after her return from London, energetic Mrs. Fen, descended on the Rectory, in order, she declared, “to tell poor dear Amy Denton all her news,” but in reality to establish a plain understanding with respect to young Lumley. If he were to be continually running to and fro and hanging about Thornby, he might put foolish ideas into Letty’s silly little head. She therefore determined to take time by the forelock, and oust him, not merely from her own abode, but also from the village! Pale Mrs. Denton, blissfully unconscious of her errand, welcomed her neighbour with her usual sunny smiles. After a gorgeous description of the trousseau, presents, the wedding gown, and the wedding guests, Mrs. Fen suddenly paused, and taking, so to speak, a long breath, resumed in her most trenchant and impressive manner: