They had met once, and fate had decided that they must never meet like that again.

In that long look each knew that they met and parted for ever, autumn arrangements notwithstanding.
Each came out of that look as out of a great cathedral, and from that moment till the train left Theophil, with an unwonted sense of loneliness, by Jenny's side, they entered that cathedral no more.

Their devotions were done for that day, and they must resume their secular duties, rippling idly over the great deeps of themselves.
One always leaves a station from which a dear friend has just gone with a certain subdued air, a certain bereaved hush in the voice, and even Jenny felt a momentary loneliness too.

But it was not long before the doors of home opened again for her in the sound of Theophil's voice; and in the sense of the old familiar nearness to him she was back again safe in the only world she ever wished to dwell in.
It was more of an effort with Theophil, and the voice that made home for Jenny had a strange sound in his own ears, as though it were still talking to Isabel; but the effort was soon made, and though Jenny teased him a little and said she believed he had quite lost his, that was to say _her_, heart to Isabel, of course she believed no such thing.

Doubt is too terrible a toy for true love to play with.