Such comfort was unsubstantial; he was, in truth, consumed in wretchedness at the thought that she once might easily have been his, and that he had passed her by.

What matter whether we love a reality or a dream, if the love drive us to frenzy?
Yet how could he renew his relations with her?
Even if no actual engagement bound her, she must be prejudiced against him by stories which would make it seem an insult if he addressed her.

And if the engagement really existed, what shadow of excuse had he for troubling her with his love?
When he entered his mother's room in the morning, Mrs.Eldon took a small volume from the table at her side.
'I found this a few weeks ago among the books you left with me,' she said.

'How long have you had it, Hubert ?' It was a copy of the 'Christian Year,' and writing on the fly-leaf showed that it belonged, or had once belonged, to Adela Waltham.
Hubert regarded it with surprise.
'It was lent to me a year ago,' he said.

'I took it away with me.