But he could only come to this conclusion,--that as she was still to be to him his holy of holies though he might not lay his hand upon the altar, his fountain though he might not drink of it, the one image which alone could have filled that nook, he would not cease to regard her happiness when she should have become the wife of this stranger.

With the stranger himself he never could be on friendly terms;--but for the stranger's wife there should always be a friend, if the friend were needed.
About an hour before lunch, John Fletcher, who had been hanging about the house all the morning in a manner very unusual to him, caught Emily Wharton as she was passing through the hall, and told her that Arthur was in a certain part of the grounds and wished to speak to her.

"Alone ?" she asked.

"Yes, certainly alone." "Ought I to go to him, John ?" she asked again.

"Certainly I think you ought." Then he had done his commission and was able to apply himself to whatever business he had on hand.
Emily at once put on her hat, took her parasol, and left the house.
There was something distasteful to her in the idea of this going out at a lover's bidding, to meet him; but like all Whartons and all Fletchers, she trusted John Fletcher.