Have you any further instructions to give us?"
"No. There is my address in London, if the pocketbook should be found."
The man took the card that was handed to him and retired. Moody offered
his arm to Isabel. "I am at your service," he said, "when you wish to
return to your aunt."
They had advanced nearly as far as the tent, on their way out of the
grounds, when they were met by a gentleman walking towards them from the
cottage. He was a stranger to Isabel. Moody immediately recognized him
as Mr. Felix Sweetsir.
"Ha! our good Moody!" cried Felix. "Enviable man! you look younger than
ever." He took off his hat to Isabel; his bright restless eyes suddenly
became quiet as they rested on her. "Have I the honor of addressing
the future Mrs. Hardyman? May I offer my best congratulations? What has
become of our friend Alfred?"
Moody answered for Isabel. "If you will make inquiries at the cottage,
sir," he said, "you will find that you are mistaken, to say the least of
it, in addressing your questions to this young lady."
Felix took off his hat again--with the most becoming appearance of
surprise and distress.
"Something wrong, I fear?" he said, addressing Isabel. "I am, indeed,
ashamed if I have ignorantly given you a moment's pain. Pray accept
my most sincere apologies. I have only this instant arrived; my health
would not allow me to be present at the luncheon. Permit me to express
the earnest hope that matters may be set right to the satisfaction of
all parties.
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