Mr.Baxendale sat there alone.
'Beatrice is going,' she said, coming behind his chair.

'Will you come and say good-bye ?' Mr.Baxendale jumped up.
'Going?
Leaving ?' His wife nodded.
'Why?
What is it?
You haven't quarrelled with her about the prayer-meetings ?' 'No.

It's a fancy of hers, that's all.

Come along; she's only twenty minutes to catch the train.' When they reached the drawing-room, Beatrice was not there.

Upon Mrs.
Baxendale's withdrawal she had gone to Wilfrid's door and knocked at it.
Wilfrid was pacing about in thought.