‘Thank you so much for coming,’ she said quietly.  ’You must have been surprised when you saw ——­’

‘I was, indeed.’

’And my surprise was still greater, when, without any warning, Alma walked into the room two days ago.  But I was so glad, so very glad.’

She breathed a little sigh, looking round.

’Hasn’t Alma given her friends any tea?  I must ring —­ Thank you. —­ Oh, the wretched, wretched day!  I seem to notice the weather so much more than I used to.  Does it affect you at all?’

Not till the tea-tray was brought in, and she had sipped from her cup, did Mrs. Frothingham lay aside these commonplaces.  With abrupt gravity, and in a subdued voice, she at length inquired the result of Rolfe’s delicate mission.

‘I think,’ he replied, ’that I made known your wish as clearly and urgently as possible.  I have seen Mrs. Abbott, and written to her twice.  It will be best, perhaps, if I ask you to read her final letter.  I have her permission to show it to you.’

He drew the letter from its envelope, and with a nervous hand Mrs Frothingham took it for perusal.  Whilst she was thus occupied, Rolfe averted his eyes; when he knew that she had read to the end, he looked at her.  She had again sighed, and Harvey could not help imagining it an involuntary signal of relief.

’I am very glad to have read this, Mr. Rolfe.  If you had merely told me that Mrs. Abbott refused, I should have felt nothing but pain.  As it is, I understand that she could only refuse, and I am most grateful for all she says about me.  I regret more than ever that I don’t know her.’

As she handed the letter back, it shook like a blown leaf.  She was pale, and spoke with effort.  But in a few moments, when conversation was resumed, her tone took a lightness and freedom which confirmed Rolfe’s impression that she had escaped from a great embarrassment; and this surmise he inevitably connected with Alma’s display of strange ill-humour.

Not another word passed on the subject.  With frequent glances towards the door, Mrs. Frothingham again talked commonplace.  Harvey, eager to get away, soon rose.

‘Oh, you are not going?  Alma will be back in a moment.’

And as her step-mother spoke, the young lady reappeared.

‘Why didn’t you give your friends tea, dear?’

’I forgot all about it.  That comes of living alone.  Dora has composed a gavotte, Mamma.  She was playing it when Mr. Rolfe came.  It’s capital!  Is Mr. Rolfe going?’

Harvey murmured his peremptory resolve.  Mrs. Frothingham, rising, said that she was almost always at home in the afternoon; that it would always give her so much pleasure ——­

‘You remain in England?’ asked Harvey, barely touching the hand which Alma cavalierly offered.

‘I really don’t know.  Perhaps I ought to, just to look after Mamma.’

Mrs. Frothingham uttered a little exclamation, and tried to laugh.  On the instant, Harvey withdrew.