Mr. Grebby is too preoccupied with his cattle and his land to notice the change in Eleanor, while Mrs. Grebby takes infinite pains to give her married daughter the best their house affords, and only remarks on her lack of appetite, at which she loudly laments. "You ain't eatin' anything, dearie," she says one morning at breakfast. "Try a tumbler of new milk to put some strength into you. It's them towns as makes you pale and spiritless. I knows 'em. We was that done up after our visit to you and cousin Harriett it was quite surprisin'. But law, how Pa did make me walk in London. Up them Monument steps, and down again before I'd got my breath, with poor Rover in charge of a policeman below, and everyone a laughing 'cause I was puffing so." Eleanor forces a smile. She was watching for the post. The moment the man's tread is heard on the gravel she starts up and runs to the door, dreading every day that Giddy may divulge her address. She longs to write to Carol Quinton, but dare not. She knows she is too weak to run the risk. There are two letters for her, one from Philip, the other from Mrs. Mounteagle. She reads Giddy's first. It is amusing and frivolous as usual. The last half, however, amazes Eleanor. "I am going to be married," it says in the middle of a description of a new bonnet. "My future husband is a wealthy man and a general. Congratulate me! It will not be a long engagement, as he is seventy-five to-morrow, but loves with the ardour of a seventeen year old! Talking of boys, I am asking Bertie to be best man. By this you will see all arrangements for the ceremony are being left entirely to my management. It will be costly and elaborate. My gown alone would have swallowed up dear Bertie's income. I have given him a splendid new watch to console him, as his was snatched last year at Epsom. I met my General at Lady MacDonald's. He moves in a very good set--gout permitting. Excuse my humour.--Your elated and strong-minded GIDDY. "P.S.--Don't you think I am a noble woman? He is one eye short, which is rather a recommendation, but _has_ been one of the handsomest men about town." "How strange," thinks Eleanor. Then she throws the letter aside in disgust. "And very loathsome!" she adds, tearing open Philip's envelope. She reads it slowly at the breakfast table. "Philip is coming this evening," she says. Mr. and Mrs. Grebby clap their hands. "Well, now, I'm right glad," they exclaim together. "We could see 'ow you missed 'im, dearie." Eleanor feels uncomfortably guilty. What _if_ they knew that her every thought was wandering to another!