‘That mare of yours is a clever one,’ he said, as I ranged alongside of him. ‘I thought I would give her a breather. She hasn’t enough to do.’ ‘She’s not breathing so _very_ fast,’ I returned. ‘Her wind is as good as her legs.’ ‘Let’s get along then, for I’ve lost a great deal of time this morning. I ought to have been at Squire Strode’s an hour ago. How hot the sun is, to be sure, for this time of the year!’ As he spoke, he urged his horse, but I took and kept the lead, feeling, I confess, a little angry, for I could not help suspecting he had really wanted to run away from me. I did what I could, however, to behave as if nothing had happened. But he was very silent, and his manner towards me was quite altered. Neither could I help thinking it scarcely worthy of a man of the world, not to say a lawyer, to show himself so much chagrined. For my part, having simply concluded that the new-blown bubble hope had burst, I found myself just where I was before-with a bend sinister on my scutcheon, it might be, but with a good conscience, a tolerably clear brain, and the dream of my Athanasia. The moment we reached the road, Mr Coningham announced that his way was in the opposite direction to mine, said his good morning, shook hands with me, and jogged slowly away. I knew that was not the nearest way to Squire Strode’s. I could not help laughing--he had so much the look of a dog with his tail between his legs, or a beast of prey that had made his spring and missed his game. I watched him for some time, for Lilith being pulled both ways--towards home, and after her late companion--was tolerably quiescent, but he never cast a glance behind him. When at length a curve in the road hid him from my sight, I turned and went quietly home, thinking what the significance of the unwelcome discovery might be. If the entry of the marriage under that date could not be proved a mere blunder, of which I could see no hope, then certainly my grandfather must be regarded as born out of wedlock, a supposition which, if correct, would account for the dropping of the _Daryll_. On the way home I jumped no hedges. Having taken my farewell of Lilith, I packed my ‘bag of needments,’ locked the door of my uncle’s room, which I would have no one enter in my absence, and set out to meet the night mail. CHAPTER LI. CHARLEY AND CLARA. On my arrival in London, I found Charley waiting for me, as I had expected, and with his help soon succeeded in finding, in one of the streets leading from the Strand to the river, the accommodation I wanted. There I settled and resumed the labour so long and thanklessly interrupted. When I recounted the circumstances of my last interview with Mr Coningham, Charley did not seem so much surprised at the prospect which had opened before me as disappointed at its sudden close, and would not admit that the matter could be allowed to rest where it was.