They were on the borders of Oxfordshire, so far had poor old Betty Higden strayed. They were to return by the train presently, and, the station being near at hand, the Reverend Frank and Mrs. Frank, and Sloppy and Bella and the Secretary, set out to walk to it. Few rustic paths are wide enough for five, and Bella and the Secretary dropped behind.

“Can you believe, Mr. Rokesmith,” said Bella, “that I feel as if whole years had passed since I went into Lizzie Hexam’s cottage?”

“We have crowded a good deal into the day,” he returned, “and you were much affected in the churchyard. You are overtired.”

“No, I am not at all tired. I have not quite expressed what I mean. I don’t mean that I feel as if a great space of time had gone by, but that I feel as if much had happened⁠—to myself, you know.”

“For good, I hope?”