All this he recognised as the pictures he had painted faded away from their canvases.

As to Captain Aylmer himself, he hoped that he might never be called upon to meet him.

He still hoped that, even as he was resolutely cramming his shirts into his portmanteau before he began his journey.

His cousin Clara he thought he could meet, and tender to her some expression of good wishes as to her future life, without giving way under the effort.

And to the old squire he could endeavour to make himself pleasant, speaking of the relief from all trouble which this marriage with Captain Aylmer would afford,--for now, in his cooler moments, he could perceive that Captain Aylmer was not a man apt to ruin himself, or his wife and children.