nor did he visit them that evening, but about eight o'clock Mrs.
Fortescue received a note, begging her to excuse him, as he had so
much to attend to, preparatory to the family coming to the Park.

They saw no more of him during the week. On Sunday, he looked,
Ethelind thought, very pale. Coming out of church he spoke to her
mother, and she thought there was a tremor in his voice as he spoke,
as if concealing some internal emotion. They made many conjectures as
to the cause of this extraordinary conduct, but both Mrs. Fortescue
and Ethelind felt certain there must be some good reason, as caprice
had, never since they had known him, formed any part of his conduct;
they were, therefore, obliged to come to the conclusion, that if they
knew it, they would find he had good reason for his conduct.

To Ethelind, when he met her alone, his manner was friendly as ever,
but she fancied he had often avoided them, when she and Beatrice were
together; sometimes she suspected he doubted Beatrice's sincerity. He
sent books and fruit to Mrs. Fortescue, as usual, but rarely went to
the cottage, and if he did, always timed his visits, so as to go when
the younger ladies were out. He would however, saunter home with
Ethelind, if alone, after the duties of the Sunday School, and consult
her on many of his plans; in short, he daily became more like his
former self.

The fact was, that the day on which Beatrice and Ethelind held the
discussion, he had started to meet them, but feeling tired, sat down
to rest on the very same bank they afterwards occupied: but the sun
shining fully on it, he had retreated behind a large tree, and having
fallen asleep, was awakened by their talking, and thus became an
unintentional auditor of their conversation.