marriage will have to be postponed?” he said slowly.

“Well, yes, I’m afraid it must be—for a day or two.”

And then Mrs. Maclean broke in:

“Before you even decide on that I think you ought to consult Jean. After all, she’s the person most nearly concerned, isn’t she? Though perhaps—” she hesitated painfully, “we need not tell her the reason for the postponement?”

Garlett turned away and stared out into the wintry garden, and there was such a look of anguish on his face that Mrs. Maclean suddenly felt a rush of intense, overwhelming pity for him.

She went across to where he was standing and put her hand gently on his arm. But he made no response.

Dr. Maclean cleared his throat: “Perhaps I’d better go and tell Jean what has happened? I don’t see how we can hope to keep it from her.”

But the unhappy man roused himself: “No!” he said violently, “I’ll tell her myself—I’d rather she heard it from me.

He turned to the doctor. “I know how kind you are——” his voice broke, “but I feel that she ought to hear this vile thing from me——”

“I think that’s true, Jock,” said Mrs. Maclean quietly. “So now I’ll go and find the child.”

She was walking to the door when Garlett asked suddenly: “Where is Jean? Out of doors? I’d rather speak to her there.”

“I’ll see you’re not disturbed.”

Jean Bower was already on her way back to the house when Harry Garlett caught sight of her. She was walking 83quickly, her whole figure instinct with the joyous buoyancy and grace of happy youth.

83

When she saw her lover she stopped short, pleased and yet surprised, for he had told her that he was not coming back from the factory till late afternoon.

And then, as he hurried up to her, there swept over her a feeling of sharp misgiving.

“Is anything the matter?” she asked affrightedly.

He took hold of her arm and guided her to a brick path which was now, to them both, filled with delicious associations, for it was here that they had always come, during the few short weeks of their secret 

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