ow that he is in life--to know that he is in life! And for the
risk--Barbara, I dread it not. The same God who protected him through
the last visit, will protect him through this. He will not forsake the
oppressed, the innocent. Destroy the paper, child."

"Archibald Carlyle must first see it, mamma."

"I shall not be easy until it is destroyed, Barbara."

Braving the comments of the gossips, hoping the visit would not reach
the ears or eyes of the justice, Barbara went that day to the office
of Mr. Carlyle. He was not there, he was at West Lynne; he had gone to
Lynneborough on business, and Mr. Dill thought it a question if he
would be at the office again that day. If so, it would be late in the
afternoon. Barbara, as soon as their own dinner was over, took up her
patient station at the gate, hoping to see him pass; but the time
went by and he did not. She had little doubt that he had returned home
without going to West Lynne.

What should she do? "Go up to East Lynne and see him," said her
conscience. Barbara's mind was in a strangely excited state. It appeared
to her that this visit of Richard's must have been specially designed by
Providence, that he might be confronted by Thorn.

"Mamma," she said, returning indoors, after seeing the justice depart
upon an evening visit to the Buck's Head, where he and certain other
justices and gentlemen sometimes congregated to smoke and chat, "I shall
go up to East Lynne, if you have no objection. I must see Mr. Carlyle."

Away went Barbara. It had struck seven when she arrived at East Lynne.

"Is Mr. Carlyle disengaged?"

"Mr. Carlyle is not yet home, miss. My lady and Miss Carlyle are waiting
dinner for him."

A check for Barbara. The servant asked her to walk in, but she declined
and turned from the door. She was in no mood for visit paying.

Lady Isabel had been standing at the window watching for her husband
and wondering what made him so late. She observed Barbara approach
the house, and saw her walk away again. Presently the servant who had
answered the door, entered the drawing-room.

"Was not that Miss Hare?"

"Yes, my lady," was the man's reply. "She wanted master. I said your
ladyship was at home, but she would not enter."

Isabel said no more; she caught the eyes of Francis Levison fixed on her
with as much meaning, compassionate meaning, as they dared express. She
clasped her hands in pain, and turned again to the window.

Barbara was slowly walking