But Julia did not tell him anything, except that her way was by the
footpath which turned off to the right. "I could not think of
troubling you further," she said. "Thank you."

She put her hand on the basket, so that he was obliged to yield it;
then, with another word of thanks, she said "good-evening," and
started by the path.

For a moment he looked after her, annoyed and interested against his
will; of course, she meant nothing by her words about his purpose and
her own, still it gave him food for reflection about her, and the
apparent incongruity of her present surroundings. On the whole, he was
glad he had met her, partly for the entertainment she had given, and
partly for the opportunity he had had to apologise.

An apology was due to her for the affair of last winter, he felt it;
though, at the same time, he could not hold himself much to blame in
the matter. He had gone to Marbridge to see into his young cousin's
affairs at the request of the boy's widowed mother. The affairs, as
might have been expected, were in muddle enough, and the boy himself
was incorrigibly silly and extravagant. The whole business needed tact
and patience, and in the end had not been very satisfactorily
arranged; during the process Captain Polkington's name had been
mentioned more than once; he figured, among other ways, of spending
much and getting little in return. Somehow or other Rawson-Clew had
got the impression that the Captain was--well, perhaps pretty much
what he really had come to be; and if that was not quite what his wife
had persuaded herself and half Marbridge to think him, surely no one
was to blame. The mistake made was about the Captain's wife and
daughters and position in the town; Rawson-Clew, in the first