He lived towards the day when he should kneel at her feet, and feel once more upon his forehead those cold, pure lips.

And that day, as he believed, was now very near.
To her aunt's secret surprise, Beatrice allowed the end of the week to come and go without any allusion to the subject of departure.

It was all the more strange, seeing that the girl's show of easy friendliness with Wilfrid had not lasted beyond the day; she had become as distant and self-centred as before.

But on the morning of the following Tuesday, as Mrs.Baxendale sat reading not long after breakfast, Beatrice entered the room in her light travelling garb, and came forward, buttoning her glove.
'You are going out ?' Mrs.Baxendale asked, with some misgiving.
'Yes--to London.

They are calling a cab.