Mr Van Brunt swept up his papers, and sat cheerfully down, proceeding to make himself very agreeable. The other little tables filled. Jeanie and her mother sat at one some way off. Constancy, with her friends, watched curiously, till the stranger, as soon as he politely could, edged off towards the object of his attraction. "Eh what?" said Staunton, as the grave Guy for once went off into a hearty fit of laughter. "Oh, I say!" he said; "it was quite outfacing. Fancy playing heavy father to Jeanie! I'd better wire to Godfrey at once." The energetic American produced a Continental Bradshaw, and proposed to start that afternoon to interview Mr Matthew. First, however, he went to walk with Jeanie. And poor Cousin Susan, wiping her eyes, and with a heart full of feelings, of which the young ones took little enough heed, exclaimed, as she finally yielded the point-- "Oh, Guy, dear aunt would have thought me so weak. Chicago!" The party soon dispersed. Jeanie and her mother followed the ardent lover home to Rilston; Constancy and her friends pursued their intended path among the heights of the Tyrol; while the good-hearted Cuthbert managed to find sources of culture wherever he fancied that Guy was most at ease. Godfrey was evidently ashamed to express relief on paper, and simply wrote, "I shall begin again," but there was new purpose in every line of his letters, and most affectionate promises of keeping everything straight, if Guy would only stay away, get strong, and enjoy himself. Guy said no more about himself; but he had little ways which showed his friend that he still had something to undergo. The steady look round in a fresh place, the shading hand over his eyes, the trick he had of finding a special corner, and of keeping to it, with his face turned one way, were significant; and he was more silent and quiet than ever; but also much more gentle. Cuthbert hardly knew how, one still bright evening, when some trifle recalled his own past, he found himself telling the story long buried even from himself. Guy listened, looking at him with his searching eyes. "Does it all seem over?" he said. "Ah well," said Cuthbert, with a long sigh, "I can't say no. For average people like me, death _is_ parting for the present, and as to the future--I'll leave it in the Hands that frame it. But for me, the moss has grown over her grave, I'm not unhappy, but I think the kind of business is over for me. No, Gladys was quite human, it all belonged to this good earth of ours, and it _was very_ good--while it lasted--and worth while." "Love does not belong to earth," said Guy; "it is never over." "Ah, my boy," said Cuthbert, "not for you, perhaps; but I'm a blind old earthworm, and my soul doesn't soar. Yours is a blessed conviction." "Yes," said Guy; "it is. But it isn't quite so sweet--as--as having it now."