"There, good-bye, old fellow," he added.
"Go to the city.

I'll dine with you to-night, if you like; come and dine with me at my Club.

I shall be disengaged." Algernon mumbled a flexible assent to an appointment at Edward's Club, dressed himself with care, borrowed a sovereign, for which he nodded his acceptance, and left him.
Edward set his brain upon a book of law.
It may have been two hours after he had sat thus in his Cistercian stillness, when a letter was delivered to him by one of the Inn porters.
Edward read the superscription, and asked the porter who it was that brought it.

Two young ladies, the porter said.
These were the contents:-- "I am not sure that you will ever forgive me.

I cannot forgive myself when I think of that one word I was obliged to speak to you in the cold street, and nothing to explain why, and how much I love, you.