"When do you go?" asked Dora suddenly, with something in her voice which
no one had ever heard before. She was startled at it herself.
He waited until the soft old church bell finished striking ten, then he
answered:
"To-morrow!"
They had reached the farthest limit of the wood and stood at the park
railing.
"Then--," she paused, and seemed to collect herself as if for a leap;
"then good-bye, Jem!"
He took the outstretched hand; his large grasp seemed to swallow it up.
"Good-bye!" he said.
He climbed the rail without agility, paused for a moment, and the
moonlight happened to gleam on his face through the gently waving
branches as he looked down at her in dumb distress.
Then he turned and walked away across the shimmering grass.
A few minutes later Dora re-entered the drawing room. Her father and
mother were seated close together, closer than she had seen them for
years. Mrs. Glynde was pale, with two scarlet patches.
Dora collected her belongings, preparatory to going to bed.
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