THE scene opens on a bedroom--and discloses, in broad daylight, alady in bed.

Persons with an irritable sense of propriety, whoseself-appointed duty it is to be always crying out, are warned topause before they cry out on this occasion. The lady nowpresented to view being no less a person than Lady Lundieherself, it follows, as a matter of course, that the utmostdemands of propriety are, by the mere assertion of that fact,abundantly and indisputably satisfied. To say that any thingshort of direct moral advantage could, by any possibility, accrueto any living creature by the presentation of her ladyship in ahorizontal, instead of a perpendicular position, is to assertthat Virtue is a question of posture, and that Respectabilityceases to assert itself when it ceases to appear in morning orevening dress. Will any body be bold enough to say that? Letnobody cry out, then, on the present occasion.

Lady Lundie was in bed.

Her ladyship had received Blanche's written announcement of thesudden stoppage of the bridal tour; and had penned the answer toSir Patrick--the receipt of which at Ham Farm has been alreadydescribed. This done, Lady Lundie felt it due to herself to takea becoming position in her own house, pending the possiblearrival of Sir Patrick's reply. What does a right-minded womando, when she has reason to believe that she is cruelly distrustedby the members of her own family? A right-minded woman feels itso acutely that she falls ill. Lady Lundie fell ill accordingly.

The case being a serious one, a medical practitioner of thehighest grade in the profession was required to treat it. Aphysician from the neighboring town of Kirkandrew was called in.

The physician came in a carriage and pair, with the necessarybald head, and the indispensable white cravat. He felt herladyship's pulse, and put a few gentle questions. He turned hisback solemnly, as only a great doctor can, on his own positiveinternal conviction that his patient had nothing whatever thematter with her. He said, with every appearance of believing inhimself, "Nerves, Lady Lundie. Repose in bed is essentiallynecessary. I will write a prescription." He prescribed, withperfect gravity: Aromatic Spirits of Ammonia--16 drops. Spiritsof Red Lavender--10 drops. Syrup of Orange Peel--2 drams. CamphorJulep--1 ounce. When he had written, Misce fiat Hanstus (insteadof Mix a Draught)--when he had added, Ter die Sumendus (insteadof To be taken Three times a day)--and when he had certified tohis own Latin, by putting his initials at the end, he had only tomake his bow; to slip two guineas into his pocket; and to go hisway, with an approving professional conscience, in the characterof a physician who had done his duty.

Lady Lundie was in bed. The visible part of her ladyship wasperfectly attired, with a view to the occasion. A fillet ofsuperb white lace encircled her head. She wore an adorableinvalid jacket of white cambric, trimmed with lace and pinkribbons. The rest was--bed-clothes. On a table at her side stoodthe Red Lavender Draught--in color soothing to the eye; in flavornot unpleasant to the taste. A book of devotional character wasnear it. The domestic ledgers, and the kitchen report for theday, were ranged modestly behind the devout book. (Not even herladyship's nerves, observe, were permitted to interfere with herladyship's duty.) A fan, a smelling-bottle, and a handkerchieflay within reach on the counterpane. The spacious room waspartially darkened. One of the lower windows was open, affordingher ladyship the necessary cubic supply of air. The late SirThomas looked at his widow, in effigy, from the wall opposite theend of the bed. Not a chair was out of its place; not a vestigeof wearing apparel dared to show itself outside the sacred limitsof the wardrobe and the drawers. The sparkling treasures of thetoilet-table glittered in the dim distance, The jugs and basinswere of a rare and creamy white; spotless and beautiful to see.Look where you might, you saw a perfect room. Then look at thebed--and you saw a perfect woman, and completed the picture.

It was the day after Anne's appearance at Swanhaven--toward theend of the afternoon.

Lady Lundie's own maid opened the door noiselessly, and stole ontip-toe to the bedside. Her ladyship's eyes were closed. Herladyship suddenly opened them.

"Not asleep, Hopkins. Suffering. What is it?"

Hopkins laid two cards on the counterpane. "Mrs. Delamayn, mylady--and Mrs. Glenarm."

"They were told I was ill, of course?"

"Yes, my lady. Mrs. Glenarm sent for me. She went into thelibrary, and wrote this note." Hopkins produced the note, neatlyfolded in three-cornered form.

"Have they gone?"

"No, my lady. Mrs. Glenarm told me Yes or No would do for answer,if you could only have the goodness to read this."

"Thoughtless of Mrs. Glenarm--at a time when the doctor insistson perfect repose," said Lady Lundie. "It doesn't matter. Onesacrifice more or less is of very little consequence."

She fortified herself by an application of the smelling-bottle,and opened the note. It ran thus:

"So grieved, dear Lady Lundie, to hear that you are a prisoner inyour room! I had taken the opportunity of calling with Mrs.Delamayn, in the hope that I might be able to ask you a question.Will your inexhaustible kindness forgive me if I ask it inwriting? Have you had any unexpected news of Mr. ArnoldBrinkworth lately? I mean, have you heard any thing about him,which has taken you very much by surprise? I have a seriousreason for asking this. I will tell you what it is, the momentyou are able to see me. Until then, one word of answer is all Iexpect. Send word down--Yes, or No. A thousand apologies--andpray get better soon!"

The singular question contained in this note suggested one of twoinferences to Lady Lundie's mind. Either Mrs. Glenarm had heard areport of the unexpected return of the married couple toEngland--or she was in the far more interesting and importantposition of possessing a clew to the secret of what was going onunder the surface at Ham Farm. The phrase used in the note, "Ihave a serious reason for asking this," appeared to favor thelatter of the two interpretations. Impossible as it seemed to bethat Mrs. Glenarm could know something about Arnold of which LadyLundie was in absolute ignorance, her ladyship's curiosity(already powerfully excited by Blanche's mysterious letter) wasonly to be quieted by obtaining the necessary explanationforthwith, at a personal interview.

"Hopkins," she said, "I must see Mrs. Glenarm."

Hopkins respectfully held up her hands in horror. Company in thebedroom in the present state of her ladyship's health!

"A matter of duty is involved in this, Hopkins. Give me theglass."

Hopkins produced an elegant little hand-mirror. Lady Lundiecarefully surveyed herself in it down to the margin of thebedclothes. Above criticism in every respect? Yes--even when thecritic was a woman.

"Show Mrs. Glenarm up here."

In a minute or two more the iron-master's widow fluttered intothe room--a little over-dressed as usual; and a little profuse inexpressions of gratitude for her ladyship's kindness, and ofanxiety about her ladyship's health. Lady Lundie endured it aslong as she could--then stopped it with a gesture of politeremonstrance, and came to the point.

"Now, my dear--about this question in your note? Is it possibleyou have heard already that Arnold Brinkworth and his wife havecome back from Baden?" Mrs. Glenarm opened her eyes inastonishment. Lady Lundie put it more plainly. "They were to havegone on to Switzerland, you know, for their wedding tour, andthey suddenly altered their minds, and came back to England onSunday last."

"Dear Lady Lundie, it's not that! Have you heard nothing aboutMr. Brinkworth except what you have just told me?"

"Nothing."

There was a pause. Mrs. Glenarm toyed hesitatingly with herparasol. Lady Lundie leaned forward in the bed, and looked at herattentively.

"What have _you_ heard about him?" she asked.

Mrs. Glenarm was embarrassed. "It's so difficult to say," shebegan.

"I can bear any thing but suspense," said Lady Lundie. "Tell methe worst."

Mrs. Glenarm decided to risk it. "Have you never heard," sheasked, "that Mr. Brinkworth might possibly have committed himselfwith another lady before he married Miss Lundie?"

Her ladyship first closed her eyes in horror and then searchedblindly on the counterpane for the smelling-bottle. Mrs. Glenarmgave it to her, and waited to see how the invalid bore it beforeshe said any more.

"There are things one _must_ hear," remarked Lady Lundie. "I seean act of duty involved in this. No words can describe how youastonish me. Who told you?"

"Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn told me."

Her ladyship applied for the second time to the smelling-bottle."Arnold Brinkworth's most intimate friend!" she exclaimed. "Heought to know if any body does. This is dreadful. Why should Mr.Geoffrey Delamayn tell _you?_"

"I am going to marry him," answered Mrs. Glenarm. "That is myexcuse, dear Lady Lundie, for troubling you in this matter."

Lady Lundie partially opened her eyes in a state of faintbewilderment. "I don't understand," she said. "For Heaven's sakeexplain yourself!"

"Haven't you heard about the anonymous letters?" asked Mrs.Glenarm.

Yes. Lady Lundie had heard about the letters. But only what thepublic in general had heard. The name of the lady in thebackground not mentioned; and Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn assumed to beas innocent as the babe unborn. Any mistake in that assumption?"Give me your hand, my poor dear, and confide it all to _me!_"

"He is not quite innocent," said Mrs. Glenarm. "He owned to afoolish flirtation--all _her_ doing, no doubt. Of course, Iinsisted on a distinct explanation. Had she really any claim onhim? Not the shadow of a claim. I felt that I only had his wordfor that--and I told him so. He said he could prove it--he saidhe knew her to be privately married already. Her husband haddisowned and deserted her; she was at the end of her resources;she was desperate enough to attempt any thing. I thought it allvery suspicious--until Geoffrey mentioned the man's name. _That_certainly proved that he had cast off his wife; for I myself knewthat he had lately married another person."

Lady Lundie suddenly started up from her pillow--honestlyagitated; genuinely alarmed by this time.

"Mr. Delamayn told you the man's name?" she said, breathlessly.

"Yes."

"Do I know it?"

"Don't ask me!"

Lady Lundie fell back on the pillow.

Mrs. Glenarm rose to ring for help. Before she could touch thebell, her ladyship had rallied again.

"Stop!" she cried. "I can confirm it! It's true, Mrs. Glenarm!it's true! Open the silver box on the toilet-table--you will findthe key in it. Bring me the top letter. Here! Look at it. I gotthis from Blanche. Why have they suddenly given up their bridaltour? Why have they gone back to Sir Patrick at Ham Farm? Whyhave they put me off with an infamous subterfuge to account forit? I felt sure something dreadful had happened. Now I know whatit is!" She sank back again, with closed eyes, and repeated thewords, in a fierce whisper, to herself. "Now I know what it is!"

Mrs. Glenarm read the letter. The reason given for thesuspiciously sudden return of the bride and bridegroom waspalpably a subterfuge--and, more remarkable still, the name ofAnne Silvester was connected with it. Mrs. Glenarm becamestrongly agitated on her side.

"This _is_ a confirmation," she said. "Mr. Brinkworth has beenfound out--the woman _is_ married to him--Geoffrey is free. Oh,my dear friend, what a load of anxiety you have taken off mymind! That vile wretch--"

Lady Lundie suddenly opened her eyes.

"Do you mean," she asked, "the woman who is at the bottom of allthe mischief?"

"Yes. I saw her yesterday. She forced herself in at Swanhaven.She called him Geoffrey Delamayn. She declared herself a singlewoman. She claimed him before my face in the most audaciousmanner. She shook my faith, Lady Lundie--she shook my faith inGeoffrey!"

"Who is she?"

"Who?" echoed Mrs. Glenarm. "Don't you even know that? Why hername is repeated half a dozen times in this letter!"

Lady Lundie uttered a scream that rang through the room. Mrs.Glenarm started to her feet. The maid appeared at the door interror. Her ladyship motioned to the woman to withdraw againinstantly, and then pointed to Mrs. Glenarm's chair.

"Sit down," she said. "Let me have a minute or two of quiet. Iwant nothing more."

The silence in the room was unbroken until Lady Lundie spokeagain. She asked for Blanche's letter. After reading itcarefully, she laid it aside, and fell for a while into deepthought.

"I have done Blanche an injustice!" she exclaimed. "My poorBlanche!"

"You think she knows nothing about it?"

"I am certain of it! You forget, Mrs. Glenarm, that this horriblediscovery casts a doubt on my step-daughter's marriage. Do youthink, if she knew the truth, she would write of a wretch who hasmortally injured her as she writes here? They have put her offwith the excuse that she innocently sends to _me._ I see it asplainly as I see you! Mr. Brinkworth and Sir Patrick are inleague to keep us both in the dark. Dear child! I owe her anatonement. If nobody else opens her eyes, I will do it. SirPatrick shall find that Blanche has a friend in Me!"

A smile--the dangerous smile of an inveterately vindictive womanthoroughly roused--showed itself with a furtive suddenness on herface. Mrs. Glenarm was a little startled. Lady Lundie below thesurface--as distinguished from Lady Lundie _on_ the surface--wasnot a pleasant object to contemplate.

"Pray try to compose yourself," said Mrs. Glenarm. "Dear LadyLundie, you frighten me!"

The bland surface of her ladyship appeared smoothly once more;drawn back, as it were, over the hidden inner self, which it hadleft for the moment exposed to view.

"Forgive me for feeling it!" she said, with the patient sweetnesswhich so eminently distinguished her in times of trial. "It fallsa little heavily on a poor sick woman--innocent of all suspicion,and insulted by the most heartless neglect. Don't let me distressyou. I shall rally, my dear; I shall rally! In this dreadfulcalamity--this abyss of crime and misery and deceit--I have noone to depend on but myself. For Blanche's sake, the whole thingmust be cleared up--probed, my dear, probed to the depths.Blanche must take a position that is worthy of her. Blanche mustinsist on her rights, under My protection. Never mind what Isuffer, or what I sacrifice. There is a work of justice for poorweak Me to do. It shall be done!" said her ladyship, fanningherself with an aspect of illimitable resolution. "It shall bedone!"

"But, Lady Lundie what can you do? They are all away in thesouth. And as for that abominable woman--"

Lady Lundie touched Mrs. Glenarm on the shoulder with her fan.

"I have my surprise in store, dear friend, as well as you. Thatabominable woman was employed as Blanche's governess in thishouse. Wait! that is not all. She left us suddenly--ran away--onthe pretense of being privately married. I know where she went. Ican trace what she did. I can find out who was with her. I canfollow Mr. Brinkworth's proceedings, behind Mr. Brinkworth'sback. I can search out the truth, without depending on peoplecompromised in this black business, whose interest it is todeceive me. And I will do it to-day!" She closed the fan with asharp snap of t riumph, and settled herself on the pillow inplacid enjoyment of her dear friend's surprise.

Mrs. Glenarm drew confidentially closer to the bedside. "How canyou manage it?" she asked, eagerly. "Don't think me curious. Ihave my interest, too, in getting at the truth. Don't leave meout of it, pray!"

"Can you come back to-morrow, at this time?"

"Yes! yes!"

"Come, then--and you shall know."

"Can I be of any use?"

"Not at present."

"Can my uncle be of any use?"

"Do you know where to communicate with Captain Newenden?"

"Yes--he is staying with some friends in Sussex."

"We may possibly want his assistance. I can't tell yet. Don'tkeep Mrs. Delamayn waiting any longer, my dear. I shall expectyou to-morrow."

They exchanged an affectionate embrace. Lady Lundie was leftalone.

Her ladyship resigned herself to meditation, with frowning browand close-shut lips. She looked her full age, and a year or twomore, as she lay thinking, with her head on her hand, and herelbow on the pillow. After committing herself to the physician(and to the red lavender draught) the commonest regard forconsistency made it necessary that she should keep her bed forthat day. And yet it was essential that the proposed inquiriesshould be instantly set on foot. On the one hand, the problem wasnot an easy one to solve; on the other, her ladyship was not aneasy one to beat. How to send for the landlady at Craig Fernie,without exciting any special suspicion or remark--was thequestion before her. In less than five minutes she had lookedback into her memory of current events at Windygates--and hadsolved it.

Her first proceeding was to ring the bell for her maid.

"I am afraid I frightened you, Hopkins. The state of my nerves.Mrs. Glenarm was a little sudden with some news that surprisedme. I am better now--and able to attend to the household matters.There is a mistake in the butcher's account. Send the cook here."

She took up the domestic ledger and the kitchen report; correctedthe butcher; cautioned the cook; and disposed of all arrears ofdomestic business before Hopkins was summoned again. Having, inthis way, dextrously prevented the woman from connecting anything that her mistress said or did, after Mrs. Glenarm'sdeparture, with any thing that might have passed during Mrs.Glenarm's visit, Lady Lundie felt herself at liberty to pave theway for the investigation on which she was determined to enterbefore she slept that night.

"So much for the indoor arrangements," she said. "You must be myprime minister, Hopkins, while I lie helpless here. Is there anything wanted by the people out of doors? The coachman? Thegardener?"

"I have just seen the gardener, my lady. He came with last week'saccounts. I told him he couldn't see your ladyship to-day."

"Quite right. Had he any report to make?"

"No, my lady."

"Surely, there was something I wanted to say to him--or tosomebody else? My memorandum-book, Hopkins. In the basket, onthat chair. Why wasn't the basket placed by my bedside?"

Hopkins brought the memorandum-book. Lady Lundie consulted it(without the slightest necessity), with the same masterly gravityexhibited by the doctor when he wrote her prescription (withoutthe slightest necessity also).

"Here it is," she said, recovering the lost remembrance. "Not thegardener, but the gardener's wife. A memorandum to speak to herabout Mrs. Inchbare. Observe, Hopkins, the association of ideas.Mrs. Inchbare is associated with the poultry; the poultry areassociated with the gardener's wife; the gardener's wife isassociated with the gardener--and so the gardener gets into myhead. Do you see it? I am always trying to improve your mind. Youdo see it? Very well. Now about Mrs. Inchbare? Has she been hereagain?"

"No, my lady."

"I am not at all sure, Hopkins, that I was right in declining toconsider the message Mrs. Inchbare sent to me about the poultry.Why shouldn't she offer to take any fowls that I can spare off myhands? She is a respectable woman; and it is important to me tolive on good terms with al my neighbors, great and small. Has shegot a poultry-yard of her own at Craig Fernie?"

"Yes, my lady. And beautifully kept, I am told."

"I really don't see--on reflection, Hopkins--why I shouldhesitate to deal with Mrs. Inchbare. (I don't think it beneath meto sell the game killed on my estate to the poulterer.) What wasit she wanted to buy? Some of my black Spanish fowls?"

"Yes, my lady. Your ladyship's black Spaniards are famous allround the neighborhood. Nobody has got the breed. And Mrs.Inchbare--"

"Wants to share the distinction of having the breed with me,"said Lady Lundie. "I won't appear ungracious. I will see hermyself, as soon as I am a little better, and tell her that I havechanged my mind. Send one of the men to Craig Fernie with amessage. I can't keep a trifling matter of this sort in mymemory--send him at once, or I may forget it. He is to say I amwilling to see Mrs. Inchbare, about the fowls, the first time shefinds it convenient to come this way."

"I am afraid, my lady--Mrs. Inchbare's heart is so set on theblack Spaniards--she will find it convenient to come this way atonce as fast as her feet can carry her."

"In that case, you must take her to the gardener's wife. Say sheis to have some eggs--on condition, of course, of paying theprice for them. If she does come, mind I hear of it."

Hopkins withdrew. Hopkins's mistress reclined on her comfortablepillows and fanned herself gently. The vindictive smilereappeared on her face. "I fancy I shall be well enough to seeMrs. Inchbare," she thought to herself. "And it is just possiblethat the conversation may get beyond the relative merits of herpoultry-yard and mine."

A lapse of little more than two hours proved Hopkins's estimateof the latent enthusiasm in Mrs. Inchbare's character to havebeen correctly formed. The eager landlady appeared at Windygateson the heels of the returning servant. Among the long list ofhuman weaknesses, a passion for poultry seems to have itspractical advantages (in the shape of eggs) as compared with themore occult frenzies for collecting snuff-boxes and fiddles, andamassing autographs and old postage-stamps. When the mistress ofCraig Fernie was duly announced to the mistress of Windygates,Lady Lundie developed a sense of humor for the first time in herlife. Her ladyship was feebly merry (the result, no doubt, of theexhilarating properties of the red lavender draught) on thesubject of Mrs. Inchbare and the Spanish fowls.

"Most ridiculous, Hopkins! This poor woman must be suffering froma determination of poultry to the brain. Ill as I am, I shouldhave thought that nothing could amuse me. But, really, this goodcreature starting up, and rushing here, as you say, as fast asher feet can carry her--it's impossible to resist it! Ipositively think I must see Mrs. Inchbare. With my active habits,this imprisonment to my room is dreadful. I can neither sleep norread. Any thing, Hopkins, to divert my mind from myself: It'seasy to get rid of her if she is too much for me. Send her up."

Mrs. Inchbare made her appearance, courtesying deferentially;amazed at the condescension which admitted her within thehallowed precincts of Lady Lundie's room.

"Take a chair," said her ladyship, graciously. "I am sufferingfrom illness, as you perceive."

"My certie! sick or well, yer leddyship's a braw sight to see!"returned Mrs. Inchbare profoundly impressed by the elegantcostume which illness assumes when illness appears in the regionsof high life.

"I am far from being in a fit state to receive any body,"proceeded Lady Lundie. "But I had a motive for wishing to speakto you when you next came to my house. I failed to treat aproposal you made to me, a short time since, in a friendly andneighborly way. I beg you to understand that I regret havingforgotten the consideration due from a person in my position to aperson in yours. I am obliged to say this under very unusualcircumstances," added her ladyship, with a glance round hermagnificent bedroom, "through your unexpected promptitude infavoring me with a call. You have lost no time, Mrs. Inchbare, inprofiting by the message which I had the pleasure of sending toyou."

"Eh, my leddy, I wasna' that sure (yer leddyship having ancechanged yer mind) but that ye might e'en change again if I failedto strike, as they say, while the iron's het. I crave yer pardon,I'm sure, if I ha' been ower hasty. The pride o' my hairt's in mypowltry--and the black Spaniards' (as they ca' them) are a sairtemptation to me to break the tenth commandment, sae lang asthey're a' in yer leddyship's possession, and nane o' them inmine."

"I am shocked to hear that I have been the innocent cause of yourfalling into temptation, Mrs. Inchbare! Make your proposal--and Ishall be happy to meet it, if I can."

"I must e'en be content wi' what yer leddyship will condescendon. A haitch o' eggs if I can come by naething else."

"There is something else you would prefer to a hatch of eggs?"

"I wad prefer," said Mrs. Inchbare, modestly, "a cock and twapullets."

"Open the case on the table behind you," said Lady Lundie, "andyou will find some writing paper inside. Give me a sheet ofit--and the pencil out of the tray."

Eagerly watched by Mrs. Inchbare, she wrote an order to thepoultry-woman, and held it out with a gracious smile.

"Take that to the gardener's wife. If you agree with her aboutthe price, you can have the cock and the two pullets."

Mrs. Inchbare opened her lips--no doubt to express the utmostextremity of human gratitude. Before she had said three words,Lady Lundie's impatience to reach the end which she had kept inview from the time when Mrs. Glenarm had left the house burst thebounds which had successfully restrained it thus far. Stoppingthe landlady without ceremony, she fairly forced the conversationto the subject of Anne Silvester's proceedings at the CraigFernie inn.

"How are you getting on at the hotel, Mrs. Inchbare? Plenty oftourists, I suppose, at this time of year?"

"Full, my leddy (praise Providence), frae the basement to theceiling."

"You had a visitor, I think, some time since of whom I knowsomething? A person--" She paused, and put a strong constraint onherself. There was no alternative but to yield to the hardnecessity of making her inquiry intelligible. "A lady," sheadded, "who came to you about the middle of last month."

"Could yer leddyship condescend on her name?"

Lady Lundie put a still stronger constraint on herself."Silvester," she said, sharply.

"Presairve us a'!" cried Mrs. Inchbare. "It will never be thesame that cam' driftin' in by hersel'--wi' a bit bag in her hand,and a husband left daidling an hour or mair on the road behindher?"

"I have no doubt it is the same."

"Will she be a freend o' yer leddyship's?" asked Mrs. Inchbare,feeling her ground cautiously.

"Certainly not!" said Lady Lundie. "I felt a passing curiosityabout her--nothing more."

Mrs. Inchbare looked relieved. "To tell ye truth, my leddy, therewas nae love lost between us. She had a maisterfu' temper o' herain--and I was weel pleased when I'd seen the last of her."

"I can quite understand that, Mrs. Inchbare--I know something ofher temper myself. Did I understand you to say that she came toyour hotel alone, and that her husband joined her shortlyafterward?"

"E'en sae, yer leddyship. I was no' free to gi' her house-room inthe hottle till her husband daidled in at her heels and answeredfor her."

"I fancy I must have seen her husband," said Lady Lundie. "Whatsort of a man was he?"

Mrs. Inchbare replied in much the same words which she had usedin answering the similar question put by Sir Patrick.

"Eh! he was ower young for the like o' _her._ A pratty man, myleddy--betwixt tall and short; wi' bonny brown eyes and cheeks,and fine coal-blaik hair. A nice douce-spoken lad. I hae naethingto say against him--except that he cam' late one day, and tookleg-bail betimes the next morning, and left madam behind, a loadon my hands."

The answer produced precisely the same effect on Lady Lundiewhich it had produced on Sir Patrick. She, also, felt that it wastoo vaguely like too many young men of no uncommon humor andcomplexion to be relied on. But her ladyship possessed oneimmense advantage over her brother-in-law in attempting to arriveat the truth. _She_ suspected Arnold--and it was possible, in hercase, to assist Mrs. Inchbare's memory by hints contributed fromher own superior resources of experience and observation.

"Had he any thing about him of the look and way of a sailor?" sheasked. "And did you notice, when you spoke to him, that he had ahabit of playing with a locket on his watch-chain?"

There he is, het aff to a T!" cried Mrs. Inchbare. "Yerleddyship's weel acquented wi' him--there's nae doot o' that."

"I thought I had seen him," said Lady Lundie. "A modest,well-behaved young man, Mrs. Inchbare, as you say. Don't let mekeep you any longer from the poultry-yard. I am transgressing thedoctor's orders in seeing any body. We quite understand eachother now, don't we? Very glad to have seen you. Good-evening."

So she dismissed Mrs. Inchbare, when Mrs. Inchbare had served herpurpose.

Most women, in her position, would have been content with theinformation which she had now obtained. But Lady Lundie--having aman like Sir Patrick to deal with--determined to be doubly sureof her facts before she ventured on interfering at Ham Farm. Shehad learned from Mrs. Inchbare that the so-called husband of AnneSilvester had joined her at Craig Fernie on the day when shearrived at the inn, and had left her again the next morning. Annehad made her escape from Windygates on the occasion of thelawn-party--that is to say, on the fourteenth of August. On thesame day Arnold Brinkworth had taken his departure for thepurpose of visiting the Scotch property left to him by his aunt.If Mrs. Inchbare was to be depended on, he must have gone toCraig Fernie instead of going to his appointed destination--andmust, therefore, have arrived to visit his house and lands oneday later than the day which he had originally set apart for thatpurpose. If this fact could be proved, on the testimony of adisinterested witness, the case against Arnold would bestrengthened tenfold; and Lady Lundie might act on her discoverywith something like a certainty that her information was to berelied on.

After a little consideration she decided on sending a messengerwith a note of inquiry addressed to Arnold's steward. The apologyshe invented to excuse and account for the strangeness of theproposed question, referred it to a little family discussion asto the exact date of Arnold's arrival at his estate, and to afriendly wager in which the difference of opinion had ended. Ifthe steward could state whether his employer had arrived on thefourteenth or on the fifteenth of August, that was all that wouldbe wanted to decide the question in dispute.

Having written in those terms, Lady Lundie gave the necessarydirections for having the note delivered at the earliest possiblehour on the next morning; the messenger being ordered to make hisway back to Windygates by the first return train on the same day.

This arranged, her ladyship was free to refresh herself withanother dose of the red lavender draught, and to sleep the sleepof the just who close their eyes with the composing convictionthat they have done their duty.

The events of the next day at Windygates succeeded each other indue course, as follows:

The post arrived, and brought no reply from Sir Patrick. LadyLundie entered that incident on her mental register of debts owedby her brother-in-law--to be paid, with interest, when the day ofreckoning came.

Next in order occurred the return of the messenger with thesteward's answer.

He had referred to his Diary; and he had discovered that Mr.Brinkworth had written beforehand to announce his arrival at hisestate for the fourteenth of August--but that he had not actuallyappeared until the fifteenth. The one discovery needed tosubstantiate Mrs. Inchbare's evidence being now in Lady Lundie'spossession, she decided to allow another day to pass--on thechance that Sir Patrick might al ter his mind, and write to her.If no letter arrived, and if nothing more was received fromBlanche, she resolved to leave Windygates by the next morning'strain, and to try the bold experiment of personal interference atHam Farm.

The third in the succession of events was the appearance of thedoctor to pay his professional visit.

A severe shock awaited him. He found his patient cured by thedraught! It was contrary to all rule and precedent; it savored ofquackery--the red lavender had no business to do what the redlavender had done--but there she was, nevertheless, up anddressed, and contemplating a journey to London on the next daybut one. "An act of duty, doctor, is involved in this--whateverthe sacrifice, I must go!" No other explanation could beobtained. The patient was plainly determined--nothing remainedfor the physician but to retreat with unimpaired dignity and apaid fee. He did it. "Our art," he explained to Lady Lundie inconfidence, "is nothing, after all, but a choice betweenalternatives. For instance. I see you--not cured, as youthink--but sustained by abnormal excitement. I have to ask whichis the least of the two evils--to risk letting you travel, or toirritate you by keeping you at home. With your constitution, wemust risk the journey. Be careful to keep the window of thecarriage up on the side on which the wind blows. Let theextremities be moderately warm, and the mind easy--and pray don'tomit to provide yourself with a second bottle of the Mixturebefore you start." He made his bow, as before--he slipped twoguineas into his pocket, as before--and he went his way, asbefore, with an approving conscience, in the character of aphysician who had done his duty. (What an enviable profession isMedicine! And why don't we all belong to it?)

The last of the events was the arrival of Mrs. Glenarm.

"Well?" she began, eagerly, "what news?"

The narrative of her ladyship's discoveries--recited at fulllength; and the announcement of her ladyship'sresolution--declared in the most uncompromising terms--raisedMrs. Glenarm's excitement to the highest pitch.

"You go to town on Saturday?" she said. "I will go with you. Eversince that woman declared she should be in London before me, Ihave been dying to hasten my journey--and it is such anopportunity to go with you! I can easily manage it. My uncle andI were to have met in London, early next week, for the foot-race.I have only to write and tell him of my change ofplans.--By-the-by, talking of my uncle, I have heard, since I sawyou, from the lawyers at Perth."

"More anonymous letters?"

"One more--received by the lawyers this time. My unknowncorrespondent has written to them to withdraw his proposal, andto announce that he has left Perth. The lawyers recommended me tostop my uncle from spending money uselessly in employing theLondon police. I have forwarded their letter to the captain; andhe will probably be in town to see his solicitors as soon as Iget there with you. So much for what _I_ have done in thismatter. Dear Lady Lundie--when we are at our journey's end, whatdo _you_ mean to do?"

"My course is plain," answered her ladyship, calmly. "Sir Patrickwill hear from me, on Sunday morning next, at Ham Farm."

"Telling him what you have found out?"

"Certainly not! Telling him that I find myself called to Londonby business, and that I propose paying him a short visit onMonday next."

"Of course, he must receive you?"

"I think there is no doubt of that. Even _his_ hatred of hisbrother's widow can hardly go to the length--after leaving myletter unanswered--of closing his doors against me next."

"How will you manage it when you get there?"

"When I get there, my dear, I shall be breathing an atmosphere oftreachery and deceit; and, for my poor child's sake (abhorrent asall dissimulation is to me), I must be careful what I do. Not aword will escape my lips until I have first seen Blanche inprivate. However painful it may be, I shall not shrink from myduty, if my duty compels me to open her eyes to the truth. SirPatrick and Mr. Brinkworth will have somebody else besides aninexperienced young creature to deal with on Monday next. I shallbe there."

With that formidable announcement, Lady Lundie closed theconversation; and Mrs. Glenarm rose to take her leave.

"We meet at the Junction, dear Lady Lundie?"

"At the Junction, on Saturday."