He was a dozen years older than Somerset: his life had been passed in grooves remote from those of Somerset's own life; and the latter decided that he would like to meet the artillery officer again.
Bidding them a temporary farewell, he went away to Markton by a shorter path than that pursued by the De Stancys, and after spending the remainder of the afternoon preparing for departure, he sallied forth just before the dinner-hour towards the suburban villa.
He had become yet more curious whether a Mrs.De Stancy existed; if there were one he would probably see her to-night.

He had an irrepressible hope that there might be such a lady.

On entering the drawing-room only the father, son, and daughter were assembled.

Somerset fell into talk with Charlotte during the few minutes before dinner, and his thought found its way out.
'There is no Mrs.De Stancy ?' he said in an undertone.
'None,' she said; 'my brother is a bachelor.' The dinner having been fixed at an early hour to suit Somerset, they had returned to the drawing-room at eight o'clock.

About nine he was aiming to get away.
'You are not off yet ?' said the captain.
'There would have been no hurry,' said Somerset, 'had I not just remembered that I have left one thing undone which I want to attend to before my departure.