"I am going home," she said, with hard, dry lips.
"Not in the rain," said Walter, "the walk is too far. I will drive you over in the phaeton after breakfast."
"I must go now," she said, pushing on resolutely through the chilling autumn drizzle. "I do not mind the walk."
"I do not understand you, Lina," he said, gravely. "Why did you not wait and see Valchester? He will be very disappointed at your going."
"I have seen him," she replied, still walking on. "Doctor Leslie allowed me to go in a few minutes."
Walter could not understand her strange gravity and quietude. It seemed as if years had suddenly fallen on the bright young head and made of her a mature and thoughtful woman.
"You will come back and see Ronald again?" he said, interrogatively.
She lifted her heavy eyes and gave him one swift look whose hopeless despair never passed from his memory.
"I shall never see Mr. Valchester again," she said, mournfully.
"Never—why not, Lina?" he cried, surprised.