There was a good deal of talk at dinner, in which I could take very
little part. Mr. and Mrs. Darrell talked to Julian Stormont of their
travels; and I must confess the lady talked well, with no
affectation of enthusiasm, and with an evident knowledge and
appreciation of the things she was speaking about. I envied her
those wanderings in sunny foreign lands, even though they had been
made in the company of an invalid dowager, and I wondered whether
she would be happy in a settled existence at Thornleigh.

After dinner Milly took me out upon the terrace, and from thence we
went to explore the gardens. We had not been out long before Julian
Stormont came to join us. We had been talking pleasantly enough till
he appeared, but his coming seemed to make us both silent, and he
himself had a thoughtful air. I watched his pale face as he walked
beside us in the twilight, and was again struck by the careworn look
about the brow and the resolute expression of the mouth.

He was very fond of Milly. Of that fact there could be no possible
doubt; and I think he had already begun to suffer keenly from the
knowledge that his love was unreturned. That he hoped against hope
at this time--that he counted fully on his power to win her in the
future, I know. He was too wise to precipitate matters by any
untimely avowal of his feelings. He waited with a quiet resolute
patience which was a part of his nature.

Of course we talked a little, but it was in a straggling, desultory
kind of way; and I think it was a relief to all of us when we
finished the round of the gardens and went in through one of the
drawing-room windows. The room was lighted with lamps and candles