Tiny was singing at the door, beating against it. What an interruption for a tale--and such a love tale as his! Mr. Wradisley was terribly jarred in all his nerves. He was more vexed even than disappointed; he could not acknowledge himself disappointed. It was the child, the surprise, the shock of admitting for the first time such an idea; he would not believe it was anything else, not even when she held open the door for him with what in any other circumstances would have been an affront, sending him away. The child got between them somehow with her little song. “Dood-night, dood-night,” said Tiny. “Come again anodder day,” holding her mother’s dress with one hand, and with the other waving to him her little farewell, as was her way. He made a step or two across the little hall, and then came back. “Promise me that you will let this make no difference, that you will come to-morrow, that I shall see you again,” he said. “No, no; let it be over, let it be over!” she cried. “You will come to-morrow? I will not speak to you if I must not; but make no difference. Promise that, and I will go away.” “I will come to-morrow,” she said. “Good-by.” The maid was standing behind him to close the outer door. Did that account for the softening of her tone? or had she begun already to see that nothing was impossible--that her foolish, womanish prejudice about a dead husband could never stand in the way of a love like his? Mr. Wradisley’s heart was beating in his ears, as he went down the bank, as it had never done before. He had come in great excitement, but it was with much greater excitement that he was going away. When the maid came running after him that laboring heart stood still for an instant. He thought he was recalled, and that everything was to be as he desired; he felt even a slight regret in the joy of being recalled so soon. It would have been even better had she taken longer to think of it. But it was only his umbrella which he had forgotten. Mr. Wradisley to forget his umbrella! That showed indeed the pass to which the man had come.