The growing beauty of her romance absorbed her, and she went from the street to the fields, and from the fields to the shore, without any consciousness of distance, till reminded by her weariness that she could go no further.

He had nowhere appeared.

In the evening she took a step which under the circumstances seemed justifiable; she wrote a note to him at the hotel, inviting him to tea with her at six precisely, and signing her note 'Lucy.' In a quarter of an hour the messenger came back.

Mr.Barnet had left the hotel early in the morning of the day before, but he had stated that he would probably return in the course of the week.
The note was sent back, to be given to him immediately on his arrival.
There was no sign from the inn that this desired event had occurred, either on the next day or the day following.

On both nights she had been restless, and had scarcely slept half-an-hour.
On the Saturday, putting off all diffidence, Lucy went herself to the Black-Bull, and questioned the staff closely.
Mr.Barnet had cursorily remarked when leaving that he might return on the Thursday or Friday, but they were directed not to reserve a room for him unless he should write.
He had left no address.
Lucy sorrowfully took back her note went home, and resolved to wait.
She did wait--years and years--but Barnet never reappeared.
April 1880.
INTERLOPERS AT THE KNAP.