She finished the writing of this letter by two o'clock. Still George had not come back. She remained in her own room most of that day, fearing if she went down she might meet Mr Nevill. Of a meeting with him she now stood in deadly terror. She would do anything on earth now rather than meet William Nevill; why this was she could not tell. Three, four, five came, and still no George. What could have happened to him? At ten minutes past five Marie came up. She had been out shopping. She had asked and learned that neither Nevill nor Osborne had been in the house since morning. This absence of both for so long a time could scarcely be explained by the mere fact of Nevill wanting to speak to Gordon about his proposal to Kate, What could it mean? If that letter was to go by to-night's post, it must be carried downstairs now. Marie rang for O'Connor, and the letter was sent away for post. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and still neither came. As eleven struck, the door of the drawing-room opened, and George Osborne, pale as a ghost, walked into the room! CHAPTER IX. THE PILGRIMAGE TO ST PAUL'S. When it grew near the breakfast-hour of that day, George Osborne paused awhile in his walking, and, leaning against the parapet of London Bridge, thought for a few moments. 'She will miss me if I am not in for breakfast. My Marie will miss me if I do not go back now. Miss me.' Something in the word hurt his heart, and, instead of turning back into the City, he crossed the bridge and walked straight on. It was now day, and thousand after thousand of people passed him hurrying into the City for the day's work. The dull and listless condition of mind in which he had set out had gradually left him, and he was now looking about him, and trying to interest himself in the people and things surrounding him.