He meant to go in the evening, even if she put him off again; and, if
they were out, to wait until they returned, pretending he had not heard
from her again.

He was no better. He had been away six weeks and was rather more in
love than ever. He would only see her--she _did_ want to see him before
they all separated for the summer! He could not think further than of
the immediate future; he would see her; they could make plans
afterwards. Of course, her letter was simply pique! She had given
herself away--twice--once in the angry letter, also in the previous
one to Paris. Where was she now? What did it mean? Why did she go out
for the whole afternoon? Where was she?

* * * * *

After Edith had written and sent her letter to Aylmer in the morning,
Mrs Ottley the elder came to fetch the children to dine, and Edith told
Miss Townsend to go for the afternoon. She was glad she would be
absolutely alone.

'Aren't you very well, dear Mrs Ottley?' asked this young lady, in her
sweet, sympathetic way.

Edith was fond of her, and, by implication only, occasionally confided
in her on other subjects than the children. Today, however, Edith
answered that she was _very_ well _indeed_, but was going to see about
things before they went away. 'I don't know how we shall manage without
you for the holidays, Miss Townsend. I think you had better come with
us for the first fortnight, if you don't mind much.'