Towards the end of the summer, hearing no more from Bruce, Aylmer grew still more hopeful; he began to regard it as practically settled. The next letter in answer to Edith's would doubtless convince her, and he would then persuade her; it was, tacitly, he thought, almost agreed now; it was not spoken of between them, but he believed it was all right….
* * * * *
Aylmer had come back to London in the early days of September and was wandering through his house thinking how he would have it done up and how he wouldn't leave it when they were married, when a telephone message summoned him to Knightsbridge.
He went, and found the elder Mrs Ottley just going away. He thought she looked at him rather strangely.
'I think Edith wants to speak to you,' she said, as she left the room.
'Dear Edith! Be nice to her.' And she fled.
* * * * *
Aylmer waited alone, looking round the room that he loved because he associated it with her.
It was one of the first cold damp days of the autumn, and there was a fire. Edith came in, in a dark dress, looking pale, and different, he thought. She had seemed the very spirit of summer only a day or two before.
A chill presentiment struck to his heart.
'You've had a letter? Go on; don't keep me in suspense.' He spoke with nervous impatience, and no self-restraint.