The mantel clock stood at twenty minutes past twelve. With a little laugh she reached up and turned its small commemorative face to the wall.
"Or," she added, becoming grave, "are you really quite tired out with being with me?"
"I was hardly thinking that," said Canning.
He dropped into a chair and stared into the fire. Carlisle glanced at his face in profile; a virile and commanding face it was, and to her, singularly attractive.
"My thoughts were running in the contrary direction," said Canning. "Do you remember my saying long ago that once I began to gambol, I was never satisfied till I had gambolled all over the place? I suppose I need a guardian, but unluckily I have one. Miss Heth, I've some sad news--sad for me, I mean. I must go south to-morrow."
Carlisle turned her head with a little start.
"To-morrow! Oh, no!"
"No--you're right! I can't go to-morrow! The day after at the farthest, or I suppose Heber'll be down after me with a couple of sheriffs."
"But I don't understand," she said, hurriedly. "What's happened? I--I hoped you would stay till the end of the week at least."
Canning's gaze remained upon the fire.