far more than a mere friend. It thrilled him hotly to appreciate more fully, now, how her unwavering trust in him that morning against all appearances proved her frank friendship for him beyond question.
He could not lose that again, he cried to himself. He looked defiantly down the track which had taken her away from him; but, even if there were another train, he knew he could not follow. He laughed hopelessly at the queer complications of comedy and tragedy in his adventurous position. Why, he could not even rejoin Mr. Dunneston, now, without a more adequate explanation of himself than he could furnish.
He looked up the track. A train, bound for Warwick, puffed into view. Making a sudden determination, he wired hastily to Ely for them to send his luggage after him, and took the train for Warwick. And for twenty days, then, he toured the interior of England alone, avoiding the cathedral towns as carefully as he had kept to them before. So, for twenty
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