led glance at us I wished for a moment that I had, and then I thought no more of the matter.
When I came back to the Temple she was in her room, and I took up a book. I was reading for review, lighted a pipe, and composed myself to my task. Once or twice I noticed that Angel seemed to be in something of a bustle, and I heard thrice a drawer sharply shut. I was thinking that it was about time we were going out to dinner, when I heard a cab stop below; presently lumping footsteps came pounding slowly up the stairs, and there was a knock at the door. I rose to go to open it, but Angel was before me. She opened it, and I heard her say, "I want you to carry my trunks down."
I could not quite believe my ears, trustworthy as I have always found them. I opened the door into the passage, and found her standing in it with her hat and coat on, watching the cabman hoisting a trunk onto his back.
"What is happening?" I said.
She half turned, but did not look at me. "I'm going," she said.
"Then what has happened?" I said.
"Nothing. But—but—I'm going. I ought to have gone long ago," she said, with solemn firmness.
I sighed, and said, "If you really think you ought, I don't see I can beg you to stay. I'm afraid
