She was still free, it seemed, but what was her feeling towards him?
Did she still love him?
Was the mysterious cause which had parted them still valid?
When already it was daylight, he went upstairs and lay down on the bed; he was weary, but not with the kind of weariness that brings sleep.

His mind was occupied with plans for discovering where Emily lived.

Mrs.
Baxendale had professed to have lost sight of her; Wilfrid saw now that there was a reason for concealing the truth, and felt that in all probability his friend had misled him; in any case, he could not apply to her.

Was there a chance of a second meeting in the same place?
Emily was sure to be free on Saturday afternoon; but only in one case would she go to the park again--if she desired to see him, and imagined a corresponding desire on his side.

And that was an unlikely thing; granting she loved him, it was not in Emily's character to scheme thus, under the circumstances.
Yet why had she chosen to come and live in London?
Beatrice he had put out of his thoughts.