ys the good lady, "I am so glad to see you. We
are in such trouble."

"Have the Cluddes got her?" I asked, Mistress Lucy being uppermost
in my thoughts.

"No, it is not so bad as that, though I fear that will be the end
of it. But she has left us, and I tremble to think of the poor
child so far away, and among strangers."

"Among strangers! Pray, ma'am, explain," I said, glad enough that
my first fear was unfounded, but marveling much at what had
happened.

"She left us six months ago," Mrs. Allardyce went on. "She has gone
back to Jamaica."

"To Jamaica!" I said. "What on earth induced her to do that,
ma'am?"

"'Twas that dreadful law case, Mr. Bold. The squire lost the day. I
do not understand it myself, he will explain it all to you when he
comes home: he has indeed gone to Bridgenorth this very day to see
his lawyer about it. Oh, Mr. Bold, I am so distressed! If I only
knew she was safe I could bear the separation so much better."

"I do not think you need be uneasy on that score," I said. "She has
friends in Jamaica, as you know; the people there are all very
kind; and you may be sure they will see to her happiness."

"I am so glad to hear that," said the lady. "After all, she is no
longer a child; she is twenty now, Mr. Bold, and has a will of her
own, and great self reliance. We had one letter from her, to say
that she had arrived safely; that was three months ago: I suppose
there has not been time to receive another."

"There has been time, certainly," I replied, with some misgivings.
"Vessels leave Port Royal every week. But her estate is situate a
long way from the port, and maybe it is not convenient to send
letters often."

"'Tis the absence of letters that makes the squire so uneasy. But
for his being unwilling to leave me, I am sure he would have sailed
to Jamaica himself to make sure that all is well. He dotes on Lucy.
'Tis a thousand pities that Roger's military duties will not permit
of his going out. Do you think that Jamaica is a healthy place to
live in, Mr. Bold?"

We were still talking when Mr. Allardyce returned. He was heartily
glad to see me, and at once poured out his tale of trouble. The
Court of Chancery, it appeared, had made Miss Lucy a ward, but
instead of appointing Mr. Allardyce to be her guardian, it had
given that office to Sir Richard Cludde, her paternal uncle. Mr.
Allardyce spoke of the judge with the most bitter obloquy; he was a
cross-grained, dried-up old mummy,