certain that, before the day came round, her caprice would have
vanished, and his reception would prove anything but a flattering
one? The feelings which both girls had at the time excited in him
seemed artificial; in his present mood he in vain tried to
resuscitate his interest either in the one or the other. It was as
though he had over-exerted his emotional powers, and they lay
exhausted. Weariness was the only reality of which he was conscious.
He must turn his mind to other things. Having breakfasted, he
remembered what day it was, and presently took down a volume of his
Goethe, opening at the Easter morning scene in Faust, favourite
reading with him. This inspired him with a desire to go into the
open air; it was a bright day, and there would be life in the
streets. Just as he began to prepare himself for walking, there came
a knock at his door, and Julian Casti entered.

"Halloa!" Waymark cried. "I thought you told me you were engaged
with your cousin to-day."

"I was, but I sent her a note yesterday to say I was unable to meet
her."

"Then why didn't you write at the same time and tell me you were
coming? I might have gone out for the day."

"I had no intention of coming then."

"What's the matter? You look out of sorts."

"I don't feel in very good spirits. By the by, I heard from the
publishers yesterday. Here's the note."