It was Paula. Egremont could not help showing amusement.

'Do you stay much longer?' he asked.

'I don't know.'

She spoke with indifference, keeping her eyes averted.

'I must catch the mail at Penrith this evening,' he said. 'I'm
afraid it will be a wet drive.'

'You're going, are you? Not to Jersey again, I hope?

'Why not?'

'It seems to make people very dull. I shall warn all my friends
against it.'

She hummed an air and left him.

Late in the afternoon Egremont took leave of his friends. Mr.
Newthorpe went out into the rain, and at the last moment shook hands
with him heartily. Annabel stood at the window and smiled farewell.

The wheels splashed along the road; rain fell in torrents. Egremont
presently looked back from the carriage window. The house was
already out of view, and the summits of the circling hills were
wreathed with cloud.