herself, and let her heart unburden itself of tears.

On her way to return books she encountered Jasper Milvain. Face
to face; no possibility of his avoiding her.

And indeed he seemed to have no such wish. His countenance
lighted up with unmistakable pleasure.

'At last we meet, as they say in the melodramas. Oh, do let me
help you with those volumes, which won't even let you shake
hands. How do you do? How do you like this weather? And how do
you like this light?'

'It's very bad.'

'That'll do both for weather and light, but not for yourself. How
glad I am to see you! Are you just going?'

'Yes.'

'I have scarcely been here half-a-dozen times since I came back
to London.'

'But you are writing still?'

'Oh yes! But I draw upon my genius, and my stores of observation,
and the living world.'

Marian received her vouchers for the volumes, and turned to face
Jasper again. There was a smile on her lips.