and respirator
on."

Lord Hartledon looked at his butler; the man was suppressing a grim
smile.

"Nonsense, Hedges!"

"It's quite true, my lord. Mrs. Mirrable says she has five bowls of
disinfectant in their rooms."

Lord Hartledon broke into a laugh, not suppressed.

"And in the courtyard, looking towards the Rectory, as may be said,
there's several pitch-pots alight night and day," added Hedges. "We have
had a host of people up, wanting to know if the place is on fire."

"What a joke!" cried Val--who was not yet beyond the age to enjoy such
jokes. "Hedges," he resumed, in a more confidential tone, "no strangers
have been here inquiring for me, I suppose?"

He alluded to creditors, or people acting for them. To a careless man, as
Val had been, it was a difficult matter to know whether all his debts
were paid or not. He had settled what he remembered; but there might be
others. Hedges understood; and his voice fell to the same low tone: he
had been pretty cognizant of the embarrassments of Mr. Percival Elster.

"Nobody at all, my lord. They wouldn't have got much information out of
me, if they had come."

Lord Hartledon laughed. "Things are changed now, Hedges, and they may
have as much information as they choose. Bring me coffee here; make
haste."

Coffee was brought, and he went out as soon as he had taken it, following
the road to the Rectory. It was a calm, still night, the moon tolerably
bright; not a breath of wind stirred the air, warm and oppressive for
October; not by any means the sort of night doctors covet when fever is
in the atmosphere.

He turned in at the Rectory-gates, and was crossing to the house, when a
rustling of leaves in a shrubbery path caused him to look over the dwarf
laurels, and there stood Anne. He was at her side in an instant. She had
nothing on her head, as though she had just come forth from the rooms for
a breath of air. As indeed was the case.

"My darling!"

"I heard you had come," she whispered, as he held both her hands in his,
and her heart bounded with an exquisite flutter of delight.

"How did you hear that?" he said, placing her hand within his arm, that
he might pace the walk with her.

"Papa heard it. Some one had seen you walking home from the train: I
think it was Mr. Hillary. But, Percival, ought you to have come here?"
she added in alarm. "This is infected ground, you know."

"Not for me. I have no more fear of fever than I have of moonstroke.
Anne,