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 through the open window, and Smales turned slowly away with a hanging head. He had not looked round for fear of meeting her mocking smile; for he, too, was human, and when his eyes met hers he felt his courage evaporate. Though apparently the best of friends, there was an antagonism between them of which they were both secretly aware, and her endeavours to placate him had met with but indifferent success. His imagination was not capable of rising to the heights of secrecy. The fiction of the cousin had long since departed from him, and the mystery was not an adequate substitute. He did not like mysteries which presaged trouble, and trouble he foresaw.

In obedience to her call Perseus re-entered the cottage. Her sleeves were tucked up, for she had been working hard with Mrs. Selton, the rosy-cheeked landlady, and the exertion had brought a delightful flush to her face, a rare sparkle to her eyes.

“You have got rid of him?”

“Yes, he is going at once.”

“T shall have you all to myself?”

“All to yourself,” he laughed.

“Then come and look at our home.”