Mumford broke into a laugh.

'There you go! The eternal feminine. You'll have her married in six
months.'

'Don't be vulgar, Clarence. And we've talked enough of Louise for
the present.'

Miss Derrick's presentiment that a letter from Mr. Cobb would soon
reach her was justified the next day; it arrived in the afternoon,
readdressed from Tulse Hill. Emmeline observed the eagerness with
which this epistle was pounced upon and carried off for private
perusal. She saw, too, that in half-an-hour's time Louise left the
house--doubtless to post a reply. But, to her surprise, not a word
of the matter escaped Miss Derrick during the whole evening.

In her school-days, Louise had learned to "play the piano," but,
caring little or nothing for music, she had hardly touched a key for
several years. Now the idea possessed her that she must resume her
practising, and to-day she had spent hours at the piano, with
painful effect upon Mrs. Mumford's nerves. After dinner she offered
to play to Mumford, and he, good-natured fellow, stood by her to
turn over the leaves. Emmeline, with fancy work in her hands,
watched the two. She was not one of the most foolish of her sex, but
it relieved her when Clarence moved away.

The next morning Louise was an hour late for breakfast. She came
down when Mumford had left the house, and Emmeline saw with surprise
that she was dressed for going out.