and deep. But instead of the gate opening, with the firm quick motion
peculiar to the hand which guided it, the footsteps seemed to pass, and
not to have turned at all toward it. Barbara's heart sank, and she stole
to the gate again, and looked out with a yearning look.

Yes, sure enough he was striding on, not thinking of her, not coming to
her; and she, in the disappointment and impulse of the moment, called to
him,--

"Archibald!"

Mr. Carlyle--it was no other--turned on his heel, and approached the
gate.

"Is it you, Barbara! Watching for thieves and poachers? How are you?"

"How are you?" she returned, holding the gate open for him to enter, as
he shook hands, and striving to calm down her agitation. "When did you
return?"

"Only now, by the eight o'clock train, which got in beyond its time,
having drawled unpardonably at the stations. They little thought they
had me in it, as their looks betrayed when I got out. I have not been
home yet."

"No! What will Cornelia say?"

"I went to the office for five minutes. But I have a few words to say to
Beauchamp, and am going up at once. Thank you, I cannot come in now; I
intend to do so on my return."