And when two or three days had passed, and still no account came to him of Bellston having joined her, he ventured to set out for Froom-Everard.
Christine was so shaken that she was obliged to receive him as she lay on a sofa, beside the square table which was to have borne their evening feast.

She fixed her eyes wistfully upon him, and smiled a sad smile.
'He has not come ?' said Nicholas under his breath.
'He has not.' Then Nicholas sat beside her, and they talked on general topics merely like saddened old friends.

But they could not keep away the subject of Bellston, their voices dropping as it forced its way in.

Christine, no less than Nicholas, knowing her husband's character, inferred that, having stopped her game, as he would have phrased it, he was taking things leisurely, and, finding nothing very attractive in her limited mode of living, was meaning to return to her only when he had nothing better to do.
The bolt which laid low their hopes had struck so recently that they could hardly look each other in the face when speaking that day.

But when a week or two had passed, and all the horizon still remained as vacant of Bellston as before, Nicholas and she could talk of the event with calm wonderment.