The pupils of the drawing-class put away their pencils andcolor-boxes in high good humor: the teacher's vigilant eye forfaults had failed him for the first time in their experience. Notone of them had been reproved; they had chattered and giggled anddrawn caricatures on the margin of the paper, as freely as if themaster had left the room. Alban's wandering attention was indeedbeyond the reach of control. His interview with Francine haddoubled his sense of responsibility toward Emily--while he wasfurther than ever from seeing how he could interfere, to anyuseful purpose, in his present position, and with his reasons forwriting under reserve.

One of the servants addressed him as he was leaving theschoolroom. The landlady's boy was waiting in the hall, with amessage from his lodgings.

"Now then! what is it?" he asked, irritably.

"The lady wants you, sir." With this mysterious answer, the boypresented a visiting card. The name inscribed on it was--"MissJethro."

She had arrived by the train, and she was then waiting at Alban'slodgings. "Say I will be with her directly." Having given themessage, he stood for a while, with his hat in hishand--literally lost in astonishment. It was simply impossible toguess at Miss Jethro's object: and yet, with the usual perversityof human nature, he was still wondering what she could possiblywant with him, up to the final moment when he opened the door ofhis sitting-room.

She rose and bowed with the same grace of movement, and the samewell-bred composure of manner, which Doctor Allday had noticedwhen she entered his consulting-room. Her dark melancholy eyesrested on Alban with a look of gentle interest. A faint flush ofcolor animated for a moment the faded beauty of her face--passedaway again--and left it paler than before.

"I cannot conceal from myself," she began, "that I am intrudingon you under embarrassing circumstances."

"May I ask, Miss Jethro, to what circumstances you allude?"

"You forget, Mr. Morris, that I left Miss Ladd's school, in amanner which justified doubt of me in the minds of strangers."

"Speaking as one of those strangers," Alban replied, "I cannotfeel that I had any right to form an opinion, on a matter whichonly concerned Miss Ladd and yourself."

Miss Jethro bowed gravely. "You encourage me to hope," she said."I think you will place a favorable construction on my visit whenI mention my motive. I ask you to receive me, in the interests ofMiss Emily Brown."

Stating her purpose in calling on him in those plain terms, sheadded to the amazement which Alban already felt, by handing tohim--as if she was presenting an introduction--a letter marked,"Private," addressed to her by Doctor Allday.

"I may tell you," she premised, "that I had no idea of troublingyou, until Doctor Allday suggested it. I wrote to him in thefirst instance; and there is his reply. Pray read it."

The letter was dated, "Penzance"; and the doctor wrote, as hespoke, without ceremony.

"MADAM--Your letter has been forwarded to me. I am spending myautumn holiday in the far West of Cornwall. However, if I hadbeen at home, it would have made no difference. I should havebegged leave to decline holding any further conversation withyou, on the subject of Miss Emily Brown, for the followingreasons:

"In the first place, though I cannot doubt your sincere interestin the young lady's welfare, I don't like your mysterious way ofshowing it. In the second place, when I called at your address inLondon, after you had left my house, I found that you had takento flight. I place my own interpretation on this circumstance;but as it is not founded on any knowledge of facts, I merelyallude to it, and say no more."

Arrived at that point, Alban offered to return the letter. "Doyou really mean me to go on reading it?" he asked.

"Yes," she said quietly.

Alban returned to the letter.

"In the third place, I have good reason to believe that youentered Miss Ladd's school as a teacher, under false pretenses.After that discovery, I tell you plainly I hesitate to attachcredit to any statement that you may wish to make. At the sametime, I must not permit my prejudices (as you will probably callthem) to stand in the way of Miss Emily's interests--supposingthem to be really depending on any interference of yours. MissLadd's drawing-master, Mr. Alban Morris, is even more devoted toMiss Emily's service than I am. Whatever you might have said tome, you can say to him--with this possible advantage, that _he_may believe you."

There the letter ended. Alban handed it back in silence.

"Is that true?" she asked.

"Quite true."

"I don't complain, Mr. Morris, of the hard things said of me inthat letter; you are at liberty to suppose, if you like, that Ideserve them. Attribute it to pride, or attribute it toreluctance to make needless demands on your time--I shall notattempt to defend myself. I leave you to decide whether the womanwho has shown you that letter--having something important to sayto you--is a person who is mean enough to say it under falsepretenses."

"Tell me what I can do for you, Miss Jethro: and be assured,beforehand, that I don't doubt your sincerity."

"My purpose in coming here," she answered, "is to induce you touse your influence over Miss Emily Brown--"

"With what object?" Alban asked, interrupting her.

"My object is her own good. Some years since, I happened tobecome acquainted with a person who has attained some celebrityas a preacher. You have perhaps heard of Mr. Miles Mirabel?"

"I have heard of him."

"I have been in correspondence with him," Miss Jethro proceeded."He tells me he has been introduced to a young lady, who wasformerly one of Miss Ladd's pupils, and who is the daughter ofMr. Wyvil, of Monksmoor Park. He has called on Mr. Wyvil; and hehas since received an invitation to stay at Mr. Wyvil's house.The day fixed for the visit is Monday, the fifth of next month."

Alban listened--at a loss to know what interest he was supposedto have in being made acquainted with Mr. Mirabel's engagements.Miss Jethro's next words enlightened him.

"You are perhaps aware," she resumed, "that Miss Emily Brown isMiss Wyvil's intimate friend. She will be one of the guests atMonksmoor Park. If there are any obstacles which you can place inher way--if there is any influence which you can exert, withoutexciting suspicion of your motive--prevent her, I entreat you,from accepting Miss Wyvil's invitation, until Mr. Mirabel's visithas come to an end."

"Is there anything against Mr. Mirabel?" he asked.

"I say nothing against him."

"Is Miss Emily acquainted with him?"

"No."

"Is he a person with whom it would be disagreeable to her toassociate?"

"Quite the contrary."

"And yet you expect me to prevent them from meeting! Bereasonable, Miss Jethro."

"I can only be in earnest, Mr. Morris--more truly, more deeply inearnest than you can suppose. I declare to you that I am speakingin Miss Emily's interests. Do you still refuse to exert yourselffor her sake?"

"I am spared the pain of refusal," Alban answered. "The time forinterference has gone by. She is, at this moment, on her way toMonksmoor Park."

Miss Jethro attempted to rise--and dropped back into her chair."Water!" she said faintly. After drinking from the glass to thelast drop, she began to revive. Her little traveling-bag was onthe floor at her side. She took out a railway guide, and tried toconsult it. Her fingers trembled incessantly; she was unable tofind the page to which she wished to refer. "Help me," she said,"I must leave this place--by the first train that passes."

"To see Emily?" Alban asked.

"Quite useless! You have said it yourself--the time forinterference has gone by. Look at the guide."

"What place shall I look for?"

"Look for Vale Regis."

Alban found the place. The train was due in ten minutes. "Surelyyou are not fit to travel so soon?" he suggested.

"Fit or not, I must see Mr. Mirabel--I must make the effort tokeep them apart by appealing to _him_."

"With any hope of success?"

"With no hope--and with no interest in the man himself. Still Imust try."

"Out of anxiety for Emily's welfare?"

"Out of anxiety for more than that."

"For what?"

"If you can't guess, I daren't tell you."

That strange reply startled Alban. Before he could ask what itmeant, Miss Jethro had left him.

In the emergencies of life, a person readier of resource thanAlban Morris it would not have been easy to discover. Theextraordinary interview that had now come to an end had found itslimits. Bewildered and helpless, he stood at the window of hisroom, and asked himself (as if he had been the weakest manliving), "What shal l I do?"