About seven that evening I turned out of the Charing Cross Hotel, where
I had taken up a temporary abode, and strolled down the Strand towards
the club, having arranged to dine there with Bob and Rivers.
Deeply meditating, endeavouring to account for the strange events of the
early morning, I was heedless of those around me, and unconscious of the
presence of any one I knew until I felt a smart slap on the back and
heard a voice shout,--
"Hulloa, old fellow! Found you at last! Why, you look as glum as if
you'd been to a funeral."
It was Demetrius Hertzen.
"What! you in London?" I cried in genuine surprise, heartily glad to
meet him.
"Yes, you left the Dene in such an uncommonly mysterious manner, and
Vera is so cut up, that I thought I'd come to town, find you, and
prevail upon you to return."
Linking his arm in mine, he walked in my direction, as he added, "What's
the meaning of all this? Surely you can confide in me, my dear fellow;
I am your wife's cousin."
I hesitated. Should I tell him? I longed to do so, and was on the
verge of disclosing my secret feelings when suddenly I remembered the
promise I had made to Vera to wait three weeks for her explanation.
"Well," I replied endeavouring to smile, but scarcely succeeding, "it is
all owing to a few hasty words. Husbands and wives will have little
differences sometimes, you know."