"Well, you certainly look as if you've been hard hit over a race," Beck exclaimed, laughing. "You can't possibly get a train now till 11:30. It's hardly ten yet," said my well-beloved, exchanging a strange, mysterious glance with Dudley. "Then I must go by that," I answered, again re-reading the pink paper, replacing it in my pocket, and endeavouring to preserve an outward calm. Presently, when Ella was again alone with me, her first question was,-- "What bad news have you received, Geoffrey?" "None," I answered, smiling. "It is a private matter, of really no importance at all." "Oh, I thought it must have been something very, very serious, your hand trembled so, and you turned so pale." "Did I?" I laughed cheerily. "Well, it's nothing, dearest; nothing at all." Thus reassured, she continued to chat with that bright vivacity that was one of her most engaging characteristics. I have, however, no idea of what she said; I only answered her mechanically, for I was too full of gloomy apprehensions to heed her gossip, even though I loved her with all my soul. Half-an-hour later, Dudley, finding that I had to go to town, announced his intention of walking back to Shepperton. "The night is lovely, and the moon bright as day," he said, as we all shook hands with him in the hall. "I shall enjoy the walk." "Beware of widows!" shouted Beck, standing at the top of the wide flight of steps. We all laughed heartily. "None about to-night," my friend shouted back good-humouredly, and, setting out briskly, disappeared a moment later down the long, winding carriage drive. "It's really too bad to tease Mr Ogle about widows," Ella protested when we went in. "He enjoys the joke hugely," I said. "Dudley's an excellent fellow. I've never in my life seen him out of temper." "In that case he ought to make a good husband," she replied, laughing, as together we all entered Mrs Laing's pretty drawing-room, with its shaded lamps and cosy-corners, where we spent another three-quarters of an hour chatting until, finding we had just time to catch our train, Beck and I made our adieux. When I shook hands with Ella she whispered an earnest appeal for forgiveness, which, truth to tell, I feigned not to hear. Then we parted. With Beck at my side, I walked sharply down the drive, rendered dark by the thick canopy of trees overhead, and had almost gained the gate leading to the high road when suddenly, catching my foot against some unseen object in the pathway, I fell heavily forward upon the gravel, just managing to save my face by putting out both hands. "Hulloa!" cried Beck; "what's the matter?" "The matter!" I gasped, groping at the mysterious object quickly with my hands. "I believe I've fallen over somebody." "Drunk, I suppose. Come along, or we sha'n't catch our train."