FOR a quarter of an hour the drawing-room remained empty. At theend of that time the council in the boudoir broke up. LadyLydiard led the way back into the drawing-room, followed byHardyman, Isabel being left to look after the dog. Before thedoor closed behind him, Hardyman turned round to reiterate hislast medical directions--or, in plainer words, to take a lastlook at Isabel.

"Plenty of water, Miss Isabel, for the dog to lap, and a littlebread or biscuit, if he wants something to eat. Nothing more, ifyou please, till I see him to-morrow."

"Thank you, sir. I will take the greatest care--"

At that point Lady Lydiard cut short the interchange ofinstructions and civilities. "Shut the door, if you please, Mr.Hardyman. I feel the draught. Many thanks! I am really at a lossto tell you how gratefully I feel your kindness. But for you mypoor little dog might be dead by this time."

Hardyman answered, in the quiet melancholy monotone which washabitual with him, "Your Ladyship need feel no further anxietyabout the dog. Only be careful not to overfeed him. He will dovery well under Miss Isabel's care. By the bye, her family nameis Miller--is it not? Is she related to the Warwickshire Millersof Duxborough House?"

Lady Lydiard looked at him with an expression of satiricalsurprise. "Mr. Hardyman," she said, "this makes the fourth timeyou have questioned me about Isabel. You seem to take a greatinterest in my little companion. Don't make any apologies, pray!You pay Isabel a compliment, and, as I am very fond of her, I amnaturally gratified when I find her admired. At the same time,"she added, with one of her abrupt transitions of language, "I hadmy eye on you, and I had my eye on her, when you were talking inthe next room; and I don't mean to let you make a fool of thegirl. She is not in your line of life, and the sooner you know itthe better. You make me laugh when you ask if she is related togentlefolks. She is the orphan daughter of a chemist in thecountry. Her relations haven't a penny to bless themselves with,except an old aunt, who lives in a village on two or threehundred a year. I heard of the girl by accident. When she losther father and mother, her aunt offered to take her. Isabel said,'No, thank you; I will not be a burden on a relation who has onlyenough for herself. A girl can earn an honest living if shetries; and I mean to try'--that's what she said. I admired herindependence," her Ladyship proceeded, ascending again to thehigher regions of thought and expression. "My niece's marriage,just at that time, had left me alone in this great house. Iproposed to Isabel to come to me as companion and reader for afew weeks, and to decide for herself whether she liked the lifeor not. We have never been separated since that time. I couldhardly be fonder of her if she were my own daughter; and shereturns my affection with all her heart. She has excellentqualities--prudent, cheerful, sweet-tempered; with good senseenough to understand what her place is in the world, asdistinguished from her place in my regard. I have taken care, forher own sake, never to leave that part of the question in anydoubt. It would be cruel kindness to deceive her as to her futureposition when she marries. I shall take good care that the manwho pays his addresses to her is a man in her rank of life. Iknow but too well, in the case of one of my own relatives, whatmiseries unequal marriages bring with them. Excuse me fortroubling you at this length on domestic matters. I am very fondof Isabel; and a girl's head is so easily turned. Now you knowwhat her position really is, you will also know what limits theremust be to the expression of your interest in her. I am sure weunderstand each other; and I say no more."

Hardyman listened to this long harangue with the immovablegravity which was part of his character--except when Isabel hadtaken him by surprise. When her Ladyship gave him the opportunityof speaking on his side, he had very little to say, and thatlittle did not suggest that he had greatly profited by what hehad heard. His mind had been full of Isabel when Lady Lydiardbegan, and it remained just as full of her, in just the same way,when Lady Lydiard had done.

"Yes," he remarked quietly, "Miss Isabel is an uncommonly nicegirl, as you say. Very pretty, and such frank, unaffectedmanners. I don't deny that I feel an interest in her. The youngladies one meets in society are not much to my taste. Miss Isabelis my taste."

Lady Lydiard's face assumed a look of blank dismay. "I am afraidI have failed to convey my exact meaning to you," she said.

Hardyman gravely declared that he understood her perfectly."Perfectly!" he repeated, with his impenetrable obstinacy. "YourLadyship exactly expresses my opinion of Miss Isabel. Prudent,and cheerful, and sweet-tempered, as you say--all the qualitiesin a woman that I admire. With good looks, too--of course, withgood looks. She will be a perfect treasure (as you remarked justnow) to the man who marries her. I may claim to know somethingabout it. I have twice narrowly escaped being married myself;and, though I can't exactly explain it, I'm all the harder toplease in consequence. Miss Isabel pleases me. I think I havesaid that before? Pardon me for saying it again. I'll call againto-morrow morning and look at the dog as early as eleven o'clock,if you will allow me. Later in the day I must be off to France toattend a sale of horses. Glad to have been of any use to yourLadyship, I am sure. Good-morning."

Lady Lydiard let him go, wisely resigning any further attempt toestablish an understanding between her visitor and herself.

"He is either a person of very limited intelligence when he isaway from his stables," she thought, "or he deliberately declinesto take a plain hint when it is given to him. I can't drop hisacquaintance, on Tommie's account. The only other alternative isto keep Isabel out of his way. My good little girl shall notdrift into a false position while I am living to look after her.When Mr. Hardyman calls to-morrow she shall be out on an errand.When he calls the next time she shall be upstairs with aheadache. And if he tries it again she shall be away at my housein the country. If he makes any remarks on her absence--well, hewill find that I can be just as dull of understanding as he iswhen the occasion calls for it."

Having arrived at this satisfactory solution of the difficulty,Lady Lydiard became conscious of an irresistible impulse tosummon Isabel to her presence and caress her. In the nature of awarm-hearted woman, this was only the inevitable reaction whichfollowed the subsidence of anxiety about the girl, after her ownresolution had set that anxiety at rest. She threw open the doorand made one of her sudden appearances at the boudoir. Even inthe fervent outpouring of her affection, there was still theinherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked LadyLydiard's character in all the relations of life.

"Did I give you a kiss, this morning?" she asked, when Isabelrose to receive her.

"Yes, my Lady," said the girl, with her charming smile.

"Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Verywell, then, treat me like your mother. Never mind 'my lady' thistime. Give me a good hug!"

Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the lookthat accompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldomshowed themselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, thebright tears rose in her eyes. "You are too good to me," shemurmured, with her head on Lady Lydiard's bosom. "How can I everlove you enough in return?"

Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with suchfilial tenderness. "There! there!" she said, "Go back and playwith Tommie, my dear. We may be as fond of each other as we like;but we mustn't cry. God bless you! Go away--go away!"

She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and itwas part of her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it."Why have I made a fool of myself?" she wondered, as sheapproached the drawing-room door. "It doesn't matter. I am allthe better for it. Odd, that Mr. Hardyman should have made mefeel fonder of Isabel than ever!"

With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room--andsuddenly checked herself with a start. "Good Heavens!" sheexclaimed irritably, "how you frightened me! Why was I not toldyou were here?"

Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiardon her return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman,mysteriously planted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The newvisitor may be rightly described as a gray man. He had gray hair,eyebrows, and whiskers; he wore a gray coat, waistcoat, andtrousers, and gray gloves. For the rest, his appearance waseminently suggestive of wealth and respectability and, in thiscase, appearances were really tobe trusted. The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard's legaladviser, Mr. Troy.

"I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as tostartle you," he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment inhis manner. "I had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that Iwould call at this hour, on some matters of business connectedwith your Ladyship's house property. I presumed that you expectedto find me here, waiting your pleasure--"

Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixingher eyes on his face in her usually frank, straightforward way.She now stopped him in the middle of a sentence, with a change ofexpression in her own face which was undisguisedly a change toalarm.

"Don't apologize, Mr. Troy," she said. "I am to blame forforgetting your appointment and for not keeping my nerves underproper control." She paused for a moment and took a seat beforeshe said her next words. "May I ask," she resumed, "if there issomething unpleasant in the business that brings you here?"

"Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait tillto-morrow or next day, if you wish it."

Lady Lydiard's fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "Youhave known me long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot enduresuspense. You _have_ something unpleasant to tell me."

The lawyer respectfully remonstrated. "Really, Lady Lydiard!--"he began.

"It won't do, Mr. Troy! I know how you look at me on ordinaryoccasions, and I see how you look at me now. You are a veryclever lawyer; but, happily for the interests that I commit toyour charge, you are also a thoroughly honest man. After twentyyears' experience of you, you can't deceive _me_. You bring mebad news. Speak at once, sir, and speak plainly."

Mr. Troy yielded--inch by inch, as it were. "I bring news which,I fear, may annoy your Ladyship." He paused, and advanced anotherinch. "It is news which I only became acquainted with myself onentering this house."

He waited again, and made another advance. "I happened to meetyour Ladyship's steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall--"

"Where is he?" Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. "I can make _him_speak out, and I will. Send him here instantly."

The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure alittle longer. "Mr. Moody will be here directly," he said. "Mr.Moody requested me to prepare your Ladyship--"

"Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?"

Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spokefor him. He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell bypresenting himself in the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard's eyessearched his face as he approached. Her bright complexion fadedsuddenly. Not a word more passed her lips. She looked, andwaited.

In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on thetable. The paper quivered in his trembling hand.

Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. "Is that for me?" sheasked.

"Yes, my Lady."

She took up the paper without an instant's hesitation. Both themen watched her anxiously as she read it.

The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:--

"I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody byname, has presented to me the letter with which he was charged,addressed to myself, with the seal intact. I regret to add thatthere is, to say the least of it, some mistake. The inclosurereferred to by the anonymous writer of the letter, who signs 'afriend in need,' has not reached me. No five-hundred poundbank-note was in the letter when I opened it. My wife was presentwhen I broke the seal, and can certify to this statement ifnecessary. Not knowing who my charitable correspondent is (Mr.Moody being forbidden to give me any information), I can onlytake this means of stating the case exactly as it stands, andhold myself at the disposal of the writer of the letter. Myprivate address is at the head of the page. --Samuel Bradstock,Rector, St. Anne's, Deansbury, London."

Lady Lydiard dropped the paper on the table. For the moment,plainly as the Rector's statement was expressed, she appeared tobe incapable of understanding it. "What, in God's name, does thismean?" she asked.

The lawyer and the steward looked at each other. Which of the twowas entitled to speak first? Lady Lydiard gave them no time todecide. "Moody," she said sternly, "you took charge of theletter--I look to you for an explanation."

Moody's dark eyes flashed. He answered Lady Lydiard withoutcaring to conceal that he resented the tone in which she hadspoken to him.

"I undertook to deliver the letter at its address," he said. "Ifound it, sealed, on the table. Your Ladyship has the clergyman'swritten testimony that I handed it to him with the seal unbroken.I have done my duty; and I have no explanation to offer."

Before Lady Lydiard could speak again, Mr. Troy discreetlyinterfered. He saw plainly that his experience was required tolead the investigation in the right direction.

"Pardon me, my Lady," he said, with that happy mixture of thepositive and the polite in his manner, of which lawyers alonepossess the secret. "There is only one way of arriving at thetruth in painful matters of this sort. We must begin at thebeginning. May I venture to ask your Ladyship a question?"

Lady Lydiard felt the composing influence of Mr. Troy. "I am atyour disposal, sir," she said, quietly.

"Are you absolutely certain that you inclosed the bank-note inthe letter?" the lawyer asked.

"I certainly believe I inclosed it" Lady Lydiard answered. "But Iwas so alarmed at the time by the sudden illness of my dog, thatI do not feel justified in speaking positively."

"Was anybody in the room with your Ladyship when you put theinclosure in the letter--as you believe?"

"_I_ was in the room," said Moody. "I can swear that I saw herLadyship put the bank-note in the letter, and the letter in theenvelope."

"And seal the envelope?" asked Mr. Troy.

"No, sir. Her Ladyship was called away into the next room to thedog, before she could seal the envelope."

Mr. Troy addressed himself once more to Lady Lydiard. "Did yourLadyship take the letter into the next room with you?"

"I was too much alarmed to think of it, Mr. Troy. I left it here,on the table."

"With the envelope open?"

"Yes."

"How long were you absent in the other room?"

"Half an hour or more."

"Ha!" said Mr. Troy to himself. "This complicates it a little."He reflected for a while, and then turned again to Moody. "Didany of the servants know of this bank-note being in herLadyship's possession?"

"Not one of them," Moody answered.

"Do you suspect any of the servants?"

"Certainly not, sir."

"Are there any workmen employed in the house?"

"No, sir."

"Do you know of any persons who had access to the room while LadyLydiard was absent from it?"

"Two visitors called, sir."

"Who were they?"

"Her Ladyship's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir, and the HonorableAlfred Hardyman."

Mr. Troy shook his head irritably. "I am not speaking ofgentlemen of high position and repute," he said. "It's absurdeven to mention Mr. Sweetsir and Mr. Hardyman. My questionrelated to strangers who might have obtained access to thedrawing-room--people calling, with her Ladyship's sanction, forsubscriptions, for instance; or people calling with articles ofdress or ornament to be submitted to her Ladyship's inspection.""

"No such persons came to the house with my knowledge," Moodyanswered.

Mr. Troy suspended the investigation, and took a turnthoughtfully in the room. The theory on which his inquiries hadproceeded thus far had failed to produce any results. Hisexperience warned him to waste no more time on it, and to returnto the starting-point of the investigation--in other words, tothe letter. Shifting his point of view, he turned again to LadyLydiard, and tried his questions in a new direction.

"Mr. Moody mentioned just now," he said, "that your Ladyship wascalled into the next room before you could seal your letter. Onyour return to this room, did you seal the letter?"

"I was busy with the dog," Lady Lydiard answered. "Isabel Millerwas of no use in the boudoir, and I told her to seal it forme."

Mr. Troy started. The new direction in which he was pushing hisinquiries began to look like the right direction already. "MissIsabel Miller," he proceeded, "has been a resident under yourLadyship's roof for some little time, I believe?"

"For nearly two years, Mr. Troy."

"As your Ladyship's companion and reader?"

"As my adopted daughter," her Ladyship answered, with markedemphasis.

Wise Mr. Troy rightly interpreted the emphasis as a warning tohim to suspend the examination of her Ladyship, and to address toMr. Moody the far more serious questions which were now to come.

"Did anyone give you the letter before you left the house withit?" he said to the steward. "Or did you take it yourself?"

"I took it myself, from the table here."

"Was it sealed?"

"Yes."

"Was anybody present when you took the letter from the table?"

"Miss Isabel was present."

"Did you find her alone in the room?"

"Yes, sir."

Lady Lydiard opened her lips to speak, and checked herself. Mr.Troy, having cleared the ground before him, put the fatalquestion.

"Mr. Moody," he said, "when Miss Isabel was instructed to sealthe letter, did she know that a bank-note was inclosed in it?"

Instead of replying, Robert drew back from the lawyer with a lookof horror. Lady Lydiard started to her feet--and checked herselfagain, on the point of speaking.

"Answer him, Moody," she said, putting a strong constraint onherself.

Robert answered very unwillingly. "I took the liberty ofreminding her ladyship that she had left her letter unsealed," hesaid. "And I mentioned as my excuse for speaking"--he stopped,and corrected himself--"_I believe_ I mentioned that a valuableinclosure was in the letter."

"You believe?" Mr. Troy repeated. "Can't you speak morepositively than that?"

"_I_ can speak positively," said Lady Lydiard, with her eyes onthe lawyer. "Moody did mention the inclosure in the letter--inIsabel Miller's hearing as well as in mine." She paused, steadilycontrolling herself. "And what of that, Mr. Troy?" she added,very quietly and firmly.

Mr. Troy answered quietly and firmly, on his side. "I amsurprised that your Ladyship should ask the question," he said.

"I persist in repeating the question," Lady Lydiard rejoined. "Isay that Isabel Miller knew of the inclosure in my letter--and Iask, What of that?"

"And I answer," retorted the impenetrable lawyer, "that thesuspicion of theft rests on your Ladyship's adopted daughter, andon nobody else."

"It's false!" cried Robert, with a burst of honest indignation."I wish to God I had never said a word to you about the loss ofthe bank-note! Oh, my Lady! my Lady! don't let him distress you!What does _he_ know about it?"

"Hush!" said Lady Lydiard. "Control yourself, and hear what hehas to say." She rested her hand on Moody's shoulder, partly toencourage him, partly to support herself; and, fixing her eyesagain on Mr. Troy, repeated his last words, " 'Suspicion rests onmy adopted daughter, and on nobody else.' Why on nobody else?"

"Is your Ladyship prepared to suspect the Rector of St. Anne's ofembezzlement, or your own relatives and equals of theft?" Mr.Troy asked. "Does a shadow of doubt rest on the servants? Not ifMr. Moody's evidence is to be believed. Who, to our own certainknowledge, had access to the letter while it was unsealed? Whowas alone in the room with it? And who knew of the inclosure init? I leave the answer to your Ladyship."

"Isabel Miller is as incapable of an act of theft as I am. Thereis my answer, Mr. Troy."

The lawyer bowed resignedly, and advanced to the door.

"Am I to take your Ladyship's generous assertion as finallydisposing of the question of the lost bank-note?" he inquired.

Lady Lydiard met the challenge without shrinking from it.

"No!" she said. "The loss of the bank-note is known out of myhouse. Other persons may suspect this innocent girl as yoususpect her. It is due to Isabel's reputation--her unstainedreputation, Mr. Troy!--that she should know what has happened,and should have an opportunity of defending herself. She is inthe next room, Moody. Bring her here."

Robert's courage failed him: he trembled at the bare idea ofexposing Isabel to the terrible ordeal that awaited her. "Oh, myLady!" he pleaded, "think again before you tell the poor girlthat she is suspected of theft. Keep it a secret from her--theshame of it will break her heart!"

"Keep it a secret," said Lady Lydiard, "when the Rector and theRector's wife both know of it! Do you think they will let thematter rest where it is, even if I could consent to hush it up? Imust write to them; and I can't write anonymously after what hashappened. Put yourself in Isabel's place, and tell me if youwould thank the person who knew you to be innocently exposed to adisgraceful suspicion, and who concealed it from you? Go, Moody!The longer you delay, the harder it will be."

With his head sunk on his breast, with anguish written in everyline of his face, Moody obeyed. Passing slowly down the shortpassage which connected the two rooms , and still shrinking fromthe duty that had been imposed on him, he paused, looking throughthe curtains which hung over the entrance to the boudoir.