tie. Evidently the situation had changed; the question of the
marriage was dropped, at any rate for the time. This idea gave our
young woman a singular and almost intoxicating sense of power; she
felt as if she were riding a great wave of confidence. She had
decided and acted--the greatest could do no more than that. The
grand thing was to see one's results, and what else was she doing?
These results were in big rich conspicuous lives; the stage was large
on which she moved her figures. Such a vision was exciting, and as
they had the use of a couple of ponies at Brinton she worked off her
excitement by a long gallop. A day or two after this however came
news of which the effect was to rekindle it. Godfrey had come back,
the list had been published, he had passed first. These happy
tidings proceeded from the young man himself; he announced them by a
telegram to Beatrice, who had never in her life before received such
a missive and was proportionately inflated. Adela reflected that she
herself ought to have felt snubbed, but she was too happy. They were
free again, they were themselves, the nightmare of the previous weeks
was blown away, the unity and dignity of her father's life restored,
and, to round off her sense of success, Godfrey had achieved his
first step toward high distinction. She wrote him the next day as
frankly and affectionately as if there had been no estrangement
between them, and besides telling him how she rejoiced in his triumph
begged him in charity to let them know exactly how the case stood
with regard to Mrs. Churchley.

Late in the summer afternoon she walked through the park to the
village with her letter, posted it and came back. Suddenly, at one
of the turns of the avenue, half-way to the house, she saw a young
man hover there as if awaiting her--a young man who proved to be
Godfrey on his pedestrian progress over from the station. He had