Miss Bride showed herself only at breakfast and luncheon, when she was friendly, indeed, but not much disposed for talk.

Dyce had anticipated a growth of intimacy with Constance; he was prepared for long, confidential gossip in the library or the garden; but his friend briefly excused herself.

She had a lot of reading and extracting to do.
"You have told me very little about yourself," he remarked, when she rose to withdraw after luncheon.
"What's there to tell ?" "It would interest me to know more of your own thoughts--apart from the work you are engaged in." "Oh, those are strictly for home consumption," said Constance with a smile; and went her way.
So Dyce paced the garden by himself, or read newspapers and reviews, or lolled indolently in super-comfortable chairs.

He had promised to write to Mrs.Woolstan, and in the morning said to himself that he would do so in the afternoon; but he disliked letter-writing, shrank at all times, indeed, from use of the pen, and ultimately the duty was postponed till to-morrow.

His exertions of the evening before had left a sense of fatigue; it was enough to savour the recollection of triumph.