It had been such a glimpse of paradise to her. Now the gates were shut and she was debarred from entering.
So the fourth week dawned.
She was in receipt of a letter from the earl. It was couched in the most affectionate terms. In it the writer inquired when she would return to the home of her ancestors.
She did not deem it prudent to show this epistle to her husband, as his name was not mentioned therein, but it contained an intimation that Mr. Chicknell would pay her an early visit.
Meanwhile the astute lawyer had been endeavouring to bring Mrs. Maitland over to the earl’s way of thinking.
He had not as yet made known to the lady his client’s proposition for a deed of separation.
Matters were not ripe enough for that at present. He must play with fish before he landed it.
Mrs. Maitland, who was honest and straightforward, besought him to speak plainly but kindly to the young engineer. She said that perhaps it would be best for all parties if Tom Gatliffe consented to Aveline taking up her abode at Broxbridge—that is assuming the earl was obdurate, and no other course remained open.
Mr. Chicknell paid many visits to Mrs. Maitland, and felt assured she would do her best in bringing matters to a satisfactory issue.
While all this had been going on, Tom Gatliffe could not conceal from himself that his wife was in a great measure estranged from him.