malice, running away from it, prolonging a little longer, and a little longer, this happy uncertainty. Some time, however, it must come, and then no doubt she would be more happy--though not with such happiness as this. On one of those lovely russet-coloured afternoons, full of haze made golden by the sunshine, already turning to the west, Lottie, walking up St. Michael’s Hill, towards the Abbey, had seen a fly driving along the street which had caught her eye as she passed. She knew it very well; it was Jobling’s fly--a nice respectable clean cab, looking for all the world like a shabby well-dressed man in a frock coat and high hat. There are many shabby respectable well-preserved things which resemble each other. The reason why this neat and clean vehicle caught her eye was that the man who was driving it wore a white wedding-favour, which is a thing which no person of twenty can see without remark. Lottie, like others of her age, was half amused, half interested, and could not help wondering who it was. It was going to the railway, and some one looked out hastily as Lottie passed, looking at her, the girl thought, withdrawing as hastily again when she was seen to turn her eyes that way. Who could it be? Lottie thought she would ask Law, who knew all the news, who had been married; but she had forgotten all about it long before she saw Law. She had too many things to think of and to do, to remember so small a matter as that; and Law did not come in till late. When he did come they took their simple supper together amicably, not saying much; but she forgot the question. Now that Lottie did not bully him they were very good friends. They said a few friendly words to each other, and that was all, and then they bade each other good night. They were all alone, the Captain having left home for a few days, and had a very good opportunity for talk. But Lottie did not seize the opportunity to put disagreeable questions. She was altogether so much more amicable than she had been used to be.