’No, no.  Let us think over it for a day or two.  Perhaps you haven’t quite made up your mind, after all.’

To this, oddly enough, Louise gave no reply.  She lingered by the window, nervously bending and rolling her letter, which she did not seem to think of opening.  After a glance or two of discreet curiosity, Mrs. Mumford left the room.  Daily duties called for attention, and she was not at all inclined to talk further with Louise.  The girl, as soon as she found herself alone, broke Mr. Cobb’s envelope, which contained four sides of bold handwriting—­not a long letter, but, as usual, vigorously worded.  ’Dear Miss Derrick,’ he wrote, ’I haven’t been in a hurry to reply to your last, as it seemed to me that you were in one of your touchy moods when you sent it.  It wasn’t my fault that I called at the house when you were away.  I happened to have business at Croydon unexpectedly, and ran over to Sutton just on the chance of seeing you.  And I have no objection to tell you all I said to your friend there.  I am not in the habit of saying things behind people’s backs that I don’t wish them to hear.  All I did was to ask out plainly whether Mrs. M. was trying to persuade you to have nothing to do with me.  She said she wasn’t, and that she didn’t wish to interfere one way or another.  I told her that I could ask no more than that.  She seemed to me a sensible sort of woman, and I don’t suppose you’ll get much harm from her, though I daresay she thinks more about dress and amusements, and so on, than is good for her or anyone else.  You say at the end of your letter that I’m to let you know when I think of coming again, and if you mean by that that you would be glad to see me, I can only say, thank you.  I don’t mean to give you up yet, and I don’t believe you want me to say what you will.  I don’t spy after you; you’re mistaken in that.  But I’m pretty much always thinking about you, and I wish you were nearer to me.  I may have to go to Bristol in a week or two, and perhaps I shall be there for a month or more, so I must see you before then.  Will you tell me what day would suit you, after seven?  If you don’t want me to come to the house, then meet me where you like.  And there’s only one more thing I have to say—­you must deal honestly with me.  I can wait, but I won’t be deceived.’

Louise pondered for a long time, turning now to this part of the letter, now to that.  And the lines of her face, though they made no approach to smiling, indicated agreeable thoughts.  Tears had left just sufficient trace to give her meditations a semblance of unwonted seriousness.

About midday she went up to her room and wrote letters.  The first was to Miss Cissy Higgins:—­’Dear Ciss,—­I dare say you would like to know that Mr. B. has proposed to me.  If you have any objection, please let me know it by return.—­Affectionately yours, L. E. DERRICK.’  This she addressed to Margate, and stamped with a little thump of the fist.  Her next sheet of paper was devoted to Mr.