I think I can say these words from my heart to-night.
Wednesday Evening. October 21.—I can still say the same. I would not choose for myself. But the disappointment has fallen heavily.
Sir Keith called alone, not long after twelve. He said that Captain Lenox had suddenly found it needful to go off by an early train, instead of waiting till this evening. A letter by post had caused the change of plan.
"A singular fellow—Lenox!" Sir Keith said musingly. "One never knows what he will do next. Curiously reserved too."
That was all, or nearly all, said about the matter. Nobody seemed to count Captain Lenox' defection a thing of any moment. I of course made no remark: and Miss Millington's inquisitive eyes were absent: while Sir Keith, usually very observant, was absorbed in Thyrza.
I will not allow myself to think who may have written that letter. What use? I cannot know, and I must not run the risk of suspecting unjustly. Better to take the pain straight from my God. Nothing comes, not permitted by Him.
But will life ever again seem worth the trouble of living?
[CHAPTER XXX.]
A REAL FIVE-SHILLING BOOK!
GLADYS HEPBURN'S DIARY.