"You forget, Archibald, that mamma was not told anything about Thorn,"
was the answer of Barbara. "The uncertainty would have worried her to
death. All Richard said to her was, that he was innocent, that it was
a stranger who did the deed, and she asked for no particulars; she had
implicit faith in Richard's truth."

"True; I did forget," replied Mr. Carlyle. "I wish we could find out
some one who knew the other Thorn; to ascertain that they were the same
would be a great point gained."

He went as far as the park gates with Barbara, shook hands and wished
her good evening. Scarcely had she departed when Mr. Carlyle saw two
gentlemen advancing from the opposite direction, in one of whom he
recognized Tom Herbert, and the other--instinct told him--was Captain
Thorn. He waited till they came up.

"If this isn't lucky, seeing you," cried Mr. Tom Herbert, who was a
free-and-easy sort of a gentleman, the second son of a brother justice
of Mr. Hare. "I wish to goodness you'd give us a draught of your cider,
Carlyle. We went up to Beauchamp's for a stroll, but found them all out,
and I'm awful thirsty. Captain Thorn, Carlyle."

Mr. Carlyle invited them to his house and ordered in refreshments. Young
Herbert coolly threw himself into an arm-chair and lit a cigar. "Come,
Thorn," cried he, "here's a weed for you."

Captain Thorn glanced toward Mr. Carlyle; he appeared of a far more
gentlemanly nature than Tom Herbert.

"You'll have one too, Carlyle," said Herbert, holding out his
cigar-case. "Oh, I forgot--you are a muff; don't smoke one twice a year.
I say how's Lady Isabel?"

"Very ill still."

"By Jove! Is she, though? Tell her I am sorry to hear it, will you,
Carlyle? But--I say! Will she smell the smoke?" asked he, with a mixture
of alarm and concern in his face.

Mr. Carlyle reassured him upon the point, and turned to Captain Thorn.

"Are you acquainted with this neighborhood?"

Captain Thorn smiled. "I only reached West Lynne yesterday."

"You were never here before then?" continued Mr. Carlyle, setting down
the last as a probably evasive answer.

"No."

"He and my brother Jack, you know, are in the same regiment," put in
Tom, with scanty ceremony. "Jack had invited him down for some fishing
and that, and Thorn arrives. But he never sent word he was coming, you
see; Jack had given him up, and is off on some Irish expedition, the
deuce knows where. Precious unlucky that it should have happened so.
Thorn