In this way it came about that Patty started alone for the afternoon rehearsal. The rain was still falling, although less heavily than in the earlier part of the day. The wet leaves which the wind had torn from the trees lay thick upon the walks, crushing soddenly under her feet. The dreariness of autumn seemed suddenly to have fallen upon the land, and nature to have yielded to it without a struggle. The weeds by the roadside were beaten down and broken; the streets were full of pools of turbid water, which reflected dismally the dark sky. The bright glow of the autumnal foliage had been apparently washed away by the torrents of rain, leaving the landscape gray and drear.

Patty was out of sorts, and even the walk in the rain failed to restore her spirits. She did not at all understand the way in which Tom Putnam kept himself aloof. That a man should make a declaration of love, and then treat its object with quiet neglect, was incomprehensible enough. She recalled that night when he had found her on the doorstep, and contrasted it with his manner on Sunday afternoon in the Castle in the Air. She was unable to understand how Tom, if indeed he loved her, could meet her with calmness; and it was but a step further to conclude that she did not possess his heart. She secretly resolved to meet the lawyer with an indifference to which his should be as nothing; to be colder than ice, as unconcerned as a statue, and as firm as the Pyramids. Raising her eyes at this point of her revery, she saw her lover coming towards her down the village street. She felt a glow of pleasure in spite of herself. With a girl like Patty, no method of wooing could have been more effectual than that which circumstances had forced upon the lawyer, although he had felt keenly the loss of her society.

"I am so glad I have met you!" he said. "I was going to your house, but now I will walk on with you."

Patty was steadying her nerves, and sending back the rebellious blood, which would bound at sight of his tall figure, as he turned and walked at her side.

"I have been so occupied!" he continued. "The executors of Mrs. Sutcliff's estate have been at me night and day. First it is a telegram, and then a letter; and, as I've had Judge Hopcroft's business on my hands since he has been ill, it has kept me very much occupied. I am glad it is about done with. I think I have earned all the money I shall get twice over."

"You are very grateful," Patty said, with an exasperating desire to say something disagreeable.

"Grateful! Of course, I am; but I do not like to be kept always away from you."

"Indeed! You have always yourself for company; and, being a man, according to your theory that ought to suffice."

"But I pity you," he returned lightly. "The other half of my theory is, that you need company."