THE letters to Lady Lundie and to Mr. Crum having been dispatchedon Monday, the return of the post might be looked for onWednesday afternoon at Ham Farm.

Sir Patrick and Arnold held more than one private consultation,during the interval, on the delicate and difficult subject ofadmitting Blanche to a knowledge of what had happened. The wiseelder advised and the inexperienced junior listened. "Think ofit," said Sir Patrick; "and do it." And Arnold thought of it--andleft it undone.

Let those who feel inclined to blame him remember that he hadonly been married a fortnight. It is hard, surely, after but twoweeks' possession of your wife, to appear before her in thecharacter of an offender on trial--and to find that an angel ofretribution has been thrown into the bargain by the liberaldestiny which bestowed on you the woman whom you adore!

They were all three at home on the Wednesday afternoon, lookingout for the postman.

The correspondence delivered included (exactly as Sir Patrick hadforeseen) a letter from Lady Lundie. Further investigation, onthe far more interesting subject of the expected news fromGlasgow, revealed--nothing. The lawyer had not answered SirPatrick's inquiry by return of post.

"Is that a bad sign?" asked Blanche.

"It is a sign that something has happened," answered her uncle."Mr. Crum is possibly expecting to receive some specialinformation, and is waiting on the chance of being able tocommunicate it. We must hope, my dear, in to-morrow's post."

"Open Lady Lundie's letter in the mean time," said Blanche. "Areyou sure it is for you--and not for me?"

There was no doubt about it. Her ladyship's reply was ominouslyaddressed to her ladyship's brother-in-law. "I know what thatmeans." said Blanche, eying her uncle eagerly while he wasreading the letter. "If you mention Anne's name you insult mystep-mother. I have mentioned it freely. Lady Lundie is mortallyoffended with me."

Rash judgment of youth! A lady who takes a dignified attitude, ina family emergency, is never mortally offended--she is onlydeeply grieved. Lady Lundie took a dignified attitude. "I wellknow," wrote this estimable and Christian woman, "that I havebeen all along regarded in the light of an intruder by the familyconnections of my late beloved husband. But I was hardly preparedto find myself entirely shut out from all domestic confidence, ata time when some serious domestic catastrophe has but tooevidently taken place. I have no desire, dear Sir Patrick, tointrude. Feeling it, however, to be quite inconsistent with a dueregard for my own position--after what has happened--tocorrespond with Blanche, I address myself to the head of thefamily, purely in the interests of propriety. Permit me to askwhether--under circumstances which appear to be serious enough torequire the recall of my step-daughter and her husband from theirwedding tour--you think it DECENT to keep the widow of the lateSir Thomas Lundie entirely in the dark? Pray consider this--notat all out of regard for Me!--but out of regard for your ownposition with Society. Curiosity is, as you know, foreign to mynature. But when this dreadful scandal (whatever it may be) comesout--which, dear Sir Patrick, it can not fail to do--what willthe world think, when it asks for Lady Lundie's, opinion, andhears that Lady Lundie knew nothing about it? Whichever way youmay decide I shall take no offense. I may possibly bewounded--but that won't matter. My little round of duties willfind me still earnest, still cheerful. And even if you shut meout, my best wishes will find their way, nevertheless, to HamFarm. May I add--without encountering a sneer--that the prayersof a lonely woman are offered for the welfare of all?"

"Well?" said Blanche.

Sir Patrick folded up the letter, and put it in his pocket.

"You have your step-mother's best wishes, my dear." Havinganswered in those terms, he bowed to his niece with his bestgrace, and walked out of the room.

"Do I think it decent," he repeated to himself, as he closed thedoor, "to leave the widow of the late Sir Thomas Lundie in thedark? When a lady's temper is a little ruffled, I think it morethan decent, I think it absolutely desirable, to let that ladyhave the last word." He went into the library, and dropped hissister-in-law's remonstrance into a box, labeled "UnansweredLetters." Having got rid of it in that way, he hummed hisfavorite little Scotch air--and put on his hat, and went out tosun himself in the garden.

Meanwhile, Blanche was not quite satisfied with Sir Patrick'sreply. She appealed to her husband. "There is something wrong,"she said--"and my uncle is hiding it from me."

Arnold could have desired no better opportunity than she hadoffered to him, in those words, for making the long-deferreddisclosure to her of the truth. He lifted his eyes to Blanche'sface. By an unhappy fatality she was looking charmingly thatmorning. How would she look if he told her the story of thehiding at the inn? Arnold was still in love with her--and Arnoldsaid nothing.

The next day's post brought not only the anticipated letter fromMr. Crum, but an unexpected Glasgow newspaper as well.

This time Blanche had no reason to complain that her uncle kepthis correspondence a secret from her. After reading the lawyer'sletter, with an interest and agitation which showed that thecontents had taken him by surprise, he handed it to Arnold andhis niece. "Bad news there," he said. "We must share ittogether."

After acknowledging the receipt of Sir Patrick's letter ofinquiry, Mr. Crum began by stating all that he knew of MissSilvester's movements--dating from the time when she had left theSheep's Head Hotel. About a fortnight since he had received aletter from her informing him that she had found a suitable placeof residence in a village near Glasgow. Feeling a strong interestin Miss Silvester, Mr. Crum had visited her some few daysafterward. He had satisfied himself that she was lodging withrespectable people, and was as comfortably situated ascircumstances would permit. For a week more he had heard nothingfrom the lady. At the expiration of that time he had received aletter from her, telling him that she had read something in aGlasgow newspaper, of that day's date, which seriously concernedherself, and which would oblige her to travel northwardimmediately as fast as her strength would permit. At a laterperiod, when she would be more certain of her own movements, sheengaged to write again, and let Mr. Crum know where he mightcommunicate with her if necessary. In the mean time, she couldonly thank him for his kindness, and beg him to take care of anyletters or messages which might be left for her. Since thereceipt of this communication the lawyer had heard nothingfurther. He had waited for the morning's post in the hope ofbeing able to report that he had received some furtherintelligence. The hope had not been realized. He had now statedall that he knew himself thus far--and he had forwarded a copy ofthe newspaper alluded to by Miss Silvester, on the chance that anexamination of it by Sir Patrick might possibly lead to furtherdiscoveries. In conclusion, he pledged himself to write again themoment he had any information to send.

Blanche snatched up the newspaper, and opened it. "Let me look!"she said. "I can find what Anne saw here if any body can!"

She ran her eye eagerly over column after column and page afterpage--and dropped the newspaper on her lap with a gesture ofdespair.

"Nothing!" she exclaimed. "Nothing any where, that I can see, tointerest Anne. Nothing to interest any body--except Lady Lundie,"she went on, brushing the newspaper off her lap. "It turns out tobe all true, Arnold, at Swanhaven. Geoffrey Delamayn is going tomarry Mrs. Glenarm."

"What!" cried Arnold; the idea instantly flashing on him thatthis was the news which Anne had seen.

Sir Patrick gave him a warning look, and picked up the newspaperfrom the floor.

"I may as well run through it, Blanche, and make quite sure thatyou have missed nothing," he said.

The report to which Blanche had referred was among the paragraphsarranged under the heading of "Fashionable News." "A matrimonialalliance" (the Glasgow journal announced) "was in prospectbetween the Honorable Geoffrey Delamayn and the lovely andaccomplished relict of the late Mathew Glenarm, Esq., formerlyMiss Newenden." The, marriage would, in all probability, "besolemnized in Scotland, before the end of the present autumn;"and the wedding breakfast, it was whispered, "would collect alarge and fashionable party at Swanhaven Lodge."

Sir Patrick handed the newspaper silently to Arnold. It was plainto any one who knew Anne Silvester's story that those were thewords which had found their fatal way to her in her place ofrest. The inference that followed seemed to be hardly less clear.But one intelligible object, in the opinion of Sir Patrick, couldbe at the end of her journey to the north. The deserted woman hadrallied the last relics of her old energy--and had devotedherself to the desperate purpose of stopping the marriage of Mrs.Glenarm.

Blanche was the first to break the silence.

"It seems like a fatality," she said. "Perpetual failure!Perpetual disappointment! Are Anne and I doomed never to meetagain?"

She looked at her uncle. Sir Patrick showed none of his customarycheerfulness in the face of disaster.

"She has promised to write to Mr. Crum," he said. "And Mr. Crumhas promised to let us know when he hears from her. That is theonly prospect before us. We must accept it as resignedly as wecan."

Blanche wandered out listlessly among the flowers in theconservatory. Sir Patrick made no secret of the impressionproduced upon him by Mr. Crum's letter, when he and Arnold wereleft alone.

"There is no denying," he said, "that matters have taken a veryserious turn. My plans and calculations are all thrown out. It isimpossible to foresee what new mischief may not come of it, ifthose two women meet; or what desperate act Delamayn may notcommit, if he finds himself driven to the wall. As things are, Iown frankly I don't know what to do next. A great light of thePresbyterian Church," he added, with a momentary outbreak of hiswhimsical humor, "once declared, in my hearing, that theinvention of printing was nothing more or less than a proof ofthe intellectual activity of the Devil. Upon my honor, I feel forthe first time in my life inclined to agree with him."

He mechanically took up the Glasgow journal, which Arnold hadlaid aside, while he spoke.

"What's this!" he exclaimed, as a name caught his eye in thefirst line of the newspaper at which he happened to look. "Mrs.Glenarm again! Are they turning the iron-master's widow into apublic character?"

There the name of the widow was, unquestionably; figuring for thesecond time in type, in a letter of the gossiping sort, suppliedby an "Occasional Correspondent," and distinguished by the titleof "Sayings and Doings in the North." After tattling pleasantlyof the prospects of the shooting season, of the fashions fromParis, of an accident to a tourist, and of a scandal in theScottish Kirk, the writer proceeded to the narrative of a case ofinterest, relating to a marriage in the sphere known (in thelanguage of footmen) as the sphere of "high life."

Considerable sensation (the correspondent announced) had beencaused in Perth and its neighborhood, by the exposure of ananonymous attempt at extortion, of which a lady of distinctionhad lately been made the object. As her name had already beenpublicly mentioned in an application to the magistrates, therecould be no impropriety in stating that the lady in question wasMrs. Glenarm--whose approaching union with the Honorable GeoffreyDelamayn was alluded to in another column of the journal.

Mrs. Glenarm had, it appeared, received an anonymous letter, onthe first day of her arrival as guest at the house of a friend,residing in the neighborhood of Perth. The letter warned her thatthere was an obstacle, of which she was herself probably notaware, in the way of her projected marriage with Mr. GeoffreyDelamayn. That gentleman had seriously compr omised himself withanother lady; and the lady would oppose his marriage to Mrs.Glenarm, with proof in writing to produce in support of herclaim. The proof was contained in two letters exchanged betweenthe parties, and signed by their names; and the correspondencewas placed at Mrs. Glenarm's disposal, on two conditions, asfollows:

First, that she should offer a sufficiently liberal price toinduce the present possessor of the letters to part with them.Secondly, that she should consent to adopt such a method ofpaying the money as should satisfy the person that he was in nodanger of finding himself brought within reach of the law. Theanswer to these two proposals was directed to be made through themedium of an advertisement in the local newspaper--distinguishedby this address, "To a Friend in the Dark."

Certain turns of expression, and one or two mistakes in spelling,pointed to this insolent letter as being, in all probability, theproduction of a Scotchman, in the lower ranks of life. Mrs.Glenarm had at once shown it to her nearest relative, CaptainNewenden. The captain had sought legal advice in Perth. It hadbeen decided, after due consideration, to insert theadvertisement demanded, and to take measures to entrap the writerof the letter into revealing himself--without, it is needless toadd, allowing the fellow really to profit by his attempted act ofextortion.

The cunning of the "Friend in the Dark" (whoever he might be)had, on trying the proposed experiment, proved to be more than amatch for the lawyers. He had successfully eluded not only thesnare first set for him, but others subsequently laid. A second,and a third, anonymous letter, one more impudent than the otherhad been received by Mrs. Glenarm, assuring that lady and thefriends who were acting for her that they were only wasting timeand raising the price which would be asked for thecorrespondence, by the course they were taking. Captain Newendenhad thereupon, in default of knowing what other course to pursue,appealed publicly to the city magistrates, and a reward had beenoffered, under the sanction of the municipal authorities, for thediscovery of the man. This proceeding also having proved quitefruitless, it was understood that the captain had arranged, withthe concurrence of his English solicitors, to place the matter inthe hands of an experienced officer of the London police.

Here, so far as the newspaper correspondent was aware, the affairrested for the present.

It was only necessary to add, that Mrs. Glenarm had left theneighborhood of Perth, in order to escape further annoyance; andhad placed herself under the protection of friends in anotherpart of the county. Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn, whose fair fame hadbeen assailed (it was needless, the correspondent added inparenthesis, to say how groundlessly), was understood to haveexpressed, not only the indignation natural under thecircumstances but also his extreme regret at not finding himselfin a position to aid Captain Newenden's efforts to bring theanonymous slanderer to justice. The honorable gentleman was, asthe sporting public were well aware, then in course of stricttraining for his forthcoming appearance at the Fulham Foot-Race.So important was it considered that his mind should not beharassed by annoyances, in his present responsible position, thathis trainer and his principal backers had thought it desirable tohasten his removal to the neighborhood of Fulham--where theexercises which were to prepare him for the race were now beingcontinued on the spot.

"The mystery seems to thicken," said Arnold.

"Quite the contrary," returned Sir Patrick, briskly. "The mysteryis clearing fast--thanks to the Glasgow newspaper. I shall bespared the trouble of dealing with Bishopriggs for the stolenletter. Miss Silvester has gone to Perth, to recover hercorrespondence with Geoffrey Delamayn."

"Do you think she would recognize it," said Arnold, pointing tothe newspaper, "in the account given of it here?"

"Certainly! And she could hardly fail, in my opinion, to get astep farther than that. Unless I am entirely mistaken, theauthorship of the anonymous letters has not mystified _her._"

"How could she guess at that?"

"In this way, as I think. Whatever she may have previouslythought, she must suspect, by this time, that the missingcorrespondence has been stolen, and not lost. Now, there are onlytwo persons whom she can think of, as probably guilty of thetheft--Mrs. Inchbare or Bishopriggs. The newspaper description ofthe style of the anonymous letters declares it to be the style ofa Scotchman in the lower ranks of life--in other words, pointsplainly to Bishopriggs. You see that? Very well. Now suppose sherecovers the stolen property. What is likely to happen then? Shewill be more or less than woman if she doesn't make her way next,provided with her proofs in writing, to Mrs. Glenarm. She mayinnocently help, or she may innocently frustrate, the end we havein view--either way, our course is clear before us again. Ourinterest in communicating with Miss Silvester remains preciselythe same interest that it was before we received the Glasgownewspaper. I propose to wait till Sunday, on the chance that Mr.Crum may write again. If we don't hear from him, I shall startfor Scotland on Monday morning, and take my chance of finding myway to Miss Silvester, through Mrs. Glenarm."

"Leaving me behind?"

"Leaving you behind. Somebody must stay with Blanche. Afterhaving only been a fortnight married, must I remind you of that?"

"Don't you think Mr. Crum will write before Monday?"

"It will be such a fortunate circumstance for us, if he doeswrite, that I don't venture to anticipate it."

"You are down on our luck, Sir."

"I detest slang, Arnold. But slang, I own, expresses my state ofmind, in this instance, with an accuracy which almost reconcilesme to the use of it--for once in a way."

"Every body's luck turns sooner or later," persisted Arnold. "Ican't help thinking our luck is on the turn at last. Would youmind taking a bet, Sir Patrick?"

"Apply at the stables. I leave betting, as I leave cleaning thehorses, to my groom."

With that crabbed answer he closed the conversation for the day.

The hours passed, and time brought the post again in duecourse--and the post decided in Arnold's favor! Sir Patrick'swant of confidence in the favoring patronage of Fortune waspractically rebuked by the arrival of a second letter from theGlasgow lawyer on the next day.

"I have the pleasure of announcing" (Mr. Crum wrote) "that I haveheard from Miss Silvester, by the next postal delivery ensuing,after I had dispatched my letter to Ham Farm. She writes, verybriefly, to inform me that she has decided on establishing hernext place of residence in London. The reason assigned for takingthis step--which she certainly did not contemplate when I lastsaw her--is that she finds herself approaching the end of herpecuniary resources. Having already decided on adopting, as ameans of living, the calling of a concert-singer, she hasarranged to place her interests in the hands of an old friend ofher late mother (who appears to have belonged also to the musicalprofession): a dramatic and musical agent long established in themetropolis, and well known to her as a trustworthy andrespectable man. She sends me the name and address of thisperson--a copy of which you will find on the inclosed slip ofpaper--in the event of my having occasion to write to her, beforeshe is settled in London. This is the whole substance of herletter. I have only to add, that it does not contain theslightest allusion to the nature of the errand on which she leftGlasgow."

Sir Patrick happened to be alone when he opened Mr. Crum'sletter.

His first proceeding, after reading it, was to consult therailway time-table hanging in the hall. Having done this, hereturned to the library--wrote a short note of inquiry, addressedto the musical agent--and rang the bell.

"Miss Silvester is expected in London, Duncan. I want a discreetperson to communicate with her. You are the person."

Duncan bowed. Sir Pa trick handed him the note.

"If you start at once you will be in time to catch the train. Goto that address, and inquire for Miss Silvester. If she hasarrived, give her my compliments, and say I will have the honorof calling on her (on Mr. Brinkworth's behalf) at the earliestdate which she may find it convenient to appoint. Be quick aboutit--and you will have time to get back before the last train.Have Mr. and Mrs. Brinkworth returned from their drive?"

"No, Sir Patrick."

Pending the return of Arnold and Blanche, Sir Patrick looked atMr. Crum's letter for the second time.

He was not quite satisfied that the pecuniary motive was reallythe motive at the bottom of Anne's journey south. Rememberingthat Geoffrey's trainers had removed him to the neighborhood ofLondon, he was inclined to doubt whether some serious quarrel hadnot taken place between Anne and Mrs. Glenarm--and whether somedirect appeal to Geoffrey himself might not be in contemplationas the result. In that event, Sir Patrick's advice and assistancewould be placed, without scruple, at Miss Silvester's disposal.By asserting her claim, in opposition to the claim of Mrs.Glenarm, she was also asserting herself to be an unmarried woman,and was thus serving Blanche's interests as well as her own. "Iowe it to Blanche to help her," thought Sir Patrick. "And I oweit to myself to bring Geoffrey Delamayn to a day of reckoning ifI can."

The barking of the dogs in the yard announced the return of thecarriage. Sir Patrick went out to meet Arnold and Blanche at thegate, and tell them the news.

Punctual to the time at which he was expected, the discreetDuncan reappeared with a note from the musical agent.

Miss Silvester had not yet reached London; but she was expectedto arrive not later than Tuesday in the ensuing week. The agenthad already been favored with her instructions to pay thestrictest attention to any commands received from Sir PatrickLundie. He would take care that Sir Patrick's message should begiven to Miss Silvester as soon as she arrived.

At last, then, there was news to be relied on! At last there wasa prospect of seeing her! Blanche was radiant with happiness,Arnold was in high spirits for the first time since his returnfrom Baden.

Sir Patrick tried hard to catch the infection of gayety from hisyoung friends; but, to his own surprise, not less than to theirs,the effort proved fruitless. With the tide of events turningdecidedly in his favor--relieved of the necessity of taking adoubtful journey to Scotland; assured of obtaining his interviewwith Anne in a few days' time--he was out of spirits all throughthe evening.

"Still down on our luck!" exclaimed Arnold, as he and his hostfinished their last game of billiards, and parted for the night."Surely, we couldn't wish for a more promising prospect than_our_ prospect next week?"

Sir Patrick laid his hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"Let us look indulgently together," he said, in his whimsicallygrave way, "at the humiliating spectacle of an old man's folly. Ifeel, at this moment, Arnold, as if I would give every thing thatI possess in the world to have passed over next week, and to belanded safely in the time beyond it."

"But why?"

"There is the folly! I can't tell why. With every reason to be inbetter spirits than usual, I am unaccountably, irrationally,invincibly depressed. What are we to conclude from that? Am I theobject of a supernatural warning of misfortune to come? Or am Ithe object of a temporary derangement of the functions of theliver? There is the question. Who is to decide it? Howcontemptible is humanity, Arnold, rightly understood! Give me mycandle, and let's hope it's the liver."