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beloved tract of country； the images which met his eye threw
him back in point of emotion to very near where he had been
before making himself a stranger here。 The train entered the
cutting on whose brink he had walked when the carriage
containing Paula and her friends surprised him the previous
summer。 He looked out of the window： they were passing the
well…known curve that led up to the tunnel constructed by her
father； into which he had gone when the train came by and
Paula had been alarmed for his life。 There was the path they
had both climbed afterwards； involuntarily seizing each
other's hand； the bushes； the grass； the flowers； everything
just the same：
'…Here was the pleasant place；
And nothing wanting was； save She； alas！'
When they came out of the tunnel at the other end he caught a
glimpse of the distant castle…keep； and the well…remembered
walls beneath it。 The experience so far transcended the
intensity of what is called mournful pleasure as to make him
wonder how he could have miscalculated himself to the extent
of supposing that he might pass the spot with controllable
emotion。
On entering Markton station he withdrew into a remote corner
of the carriage； and closed his eyes with a resolve not to
open them till the embittering scenes should be passed by。 He
had not long to wait for this event。 When again in motion his
eye fell upon the skirt of a lady's dress opposite； the owner
of which had entered and seated herself so softly as not to
attract his attention。
'Ah indeed！' he exclaimed as he looked up to her face。 'I had
not a notion that it was you！' He went over and shook hands
with Charlotte De Stancy。
'I am not going far；' she said； 'only to the next station。 We
often run down in summer time。 Are you going far？'
'I am going to a building further on； thence to Normandy by
way of Cherbourg； to finish out my holiday。'
Miss De Stancy thought that would be very nice。
'Well； I hope so。 But I fear it won't。'
After saying that Somerset asked himself why he should mince
matters with so genuine and sympathetic a girl as Charlotte De
Stancy？ She could tell him particulars which he burned to
know。 He might never again have an opportunity of knowing
them； since she and he would probably not meet for years to
come； if at all。
'Have the castle works progressed pretty rapidly under the new
architect？' he accordingly asked。
'Yes；' said Charlotte in her hastethen adding that she was
not quite sure if they had progressed so rapidly as before；
blushingly correcting herself at this point and that； in the
tinkering manner of a nervous organization aiming at nicety
where it was not required。
'Well； I should have liked to carry out the undertaking to its
end；' said Somerset。 'But I felt I could not consistently do
so。 Miss Power' （here a lump came into Somerset's throat
so responsive was he yet to her image）'seemed to have lost
confidence in me； andit was best that the connection should
be severed。'
There was a long pause。 'She was very sorry about it；' said
Charlotte gently。
'What made her alter so？I never can think！'
Charlotte waited again as if to accumulate the necessary force
for honest speaking at the expense of pleasantness。 'It was
the telegram that began it of course；' she answered。
'Telegram？'
She looked up at him in quite a frightened waylittle as
there was to be frightened at in a quiet fellow like him in
this sad time of his lifeand said； 'Yes： some telegramI
thinkwhen you were in trouble？ Forgive my alluding to it；
but you asked me the question。'
Somerset began reflecting on what messages he had sent Paula；
troublous or otherwise。 All he had sent had been sent from
the castle； and were as gentle and mellifluous as sentences
well could be which had neither articles nor pronouns。 'I
don't understand；' he said。 'Will you explain a little more
as plainly as you likewithout minding my feelings？'
'A telegram from Nice； I think？'
'I never sent one。'
'O！ The one I meant was about money。'
Somerset shook his head。 'No；' he murmured； with the
composure of a man who； knowing he had done nothing of the
sort himself； was blinded by his own honesty to the
possibility that another might have done it for him。 'That
must be some other affair with which I had nothing to do。 O
no； it was nothing like that； the reason for her change of
manner was quite different！'
So timid was Charlotte in Somerset's presence； that her
timidity at this juncture amounted to blameworthiness。 The
distressing scene which must have followed a clearing up there
and then of any possible misunderstanding； terrified her
imagination； and quite confounded by contradictions that she
could not reconcile； she held her tongue； and nervously looked
out of the window。
'I have heard that Miss Power is soon to be married；'
continued Somerset。
'Yes；' Charlotte murmured。 'It is sooner than it ought to be
by rights； considering how recently my dear father died； but
there are reasons in connection with my brother's position
against putting it off： and it is to be absolutely simple and
private。'
There was another interval。 'May I ask when it is to be？' he
said。
'Almost at oncethis week。'
Somerset started back as if some stone had hit his face。
Still there was nothing wonderful in such promptitude：
engagements broken in upon by the death of a near relative of
one of the parties had been often carried out in a subdued
form with no longer delay。
Charlotte's station was now at hand。 She bade him farewell；
and he rattled on to the building he had come to inspect； and
next to Budmouth； whence he intended to cross the Channel by
steamboat that night。
He hardly knew how the evening passed away。 He had taken up
his quarters at an inn near the quay； and as the night drew on
he stood gazing from the coffee…room window at the steamer
outside； which nearly thrust its spars through the bedroom
casements； and at the goods that were being tumbled on board
as only shippers can tumble them。 All the goods were laden； a
lamp was put on each side the gangway； the engines broke into
a crackling roar； and people began to enter。 They were only
waiting for the last train： then they would be off。 Still
Somerset did not move； he was thinking of that curious half…
told story of Charlotte's； about a telegram to Paula for money
from Nice。 Not once till within the last half…hour had it
recurred to his mind that he had met Dare both at Nice and at
Monte Carlo； that at the latter place he had been absolutely
out of money and wished to borrow； showing considerable
sinister feeling when Somerset declined to lend： that on one
or two previous occasions he had reasons for doubting Dare's
probity； and that in spite of the young man's impoverishment
at Monte Carlo he had； a few days later； beheld him in shining
raiment at Carlsruhe。 Somerset； though misty in his
conjectures； was seized with a growing conviction that there
was something in Miss De Stancy's allusion to the telegram
which ought to be explained。
He felt an insurmountable objection to cross the water that