Not, however, as he had expected, to find Miss Elvan alone; with her sat Mrs.Pomfret, in London for the afternoon.

The simple and kindly lady talked as usual, but Will, nervously observant, felt sure that she was not quite at her ease.

On the other hand, nothing could have been more naturally graceful than Rosamund's demeanour; whether pouring out tea, or exhibiting her water-colours, or leading the talk to subjects of common interest, she was charming in her own way, a way which borrowed nothing from the every-day graces of the drawing-room.

Her voice, always subdued, had a range of melodious expression which caressed the ear, no matter how trifling the words she uttered, and at moments its slightly tremulous murmur on rich notes suggested depths of sentiment lying beneath this familiar calm.

To her aunt she spoke with a touch of playful affection; when her eyes turned to Warburton, their look almost suggested the frankness of simple friendship, and her tone was that of the largest confidence.
Never had Will felt himself so lulled to oblivion of things external; he forgot the progress of time, and only when Mrs.Pomfret spoke of the train she had to catch, made an effort to break the lazy spell and take his leave.
On the morrow, and on the day after that, he shirked business during the afternoon, excusing himself with the plea that the heat of the shop was insufferable.