ord Hartledon supposed it simply impossible that she should attempt
to open it of her own accord.

They were of different natures; and they had been reared in different
schools. Poor Maude Kirton had learnt to be anything but scrupulous,
and really thought it a very slight thing she was about to do, almost
justifiable under the circumstances. Almost, if not quite. Nevertheless
she would not have liked to be caught at it.

She took her bunch of keys and went into her husband's dressing-room,
which opened from their bedroom: but she went on tip-toe, as one who
knows she is doing wrong. It took some little time to try the keys, for
there were several on the ring, and she did not know the right one: but
the lid flew open at last, and disclosed the two letters lying there.

She snatched at one, either that came first, and opened it. It happened
to be the one from Mr. Carr, and she began to read it, her heart beating.

"Dear Hartledon,

"I think I have at last found some trace of Gorton. There's a man of
that name in the criminal calendar here, down for trial to-morrow; I
shall see then whether it is the same, but the description tallies.
Should it be our Gorton, I think the better plan will be to leave him
entirely alone: a man undergoing a criminal sentence--and this man is
sure of a long period of it--has neither the means nor the motive to be
dangerous. He cannot molest you whilst he is working on Portland
Island; and, so far, you may live a little eased from fear. I wish--"

Mr. Carr's was a close handwriting, and this concluded the first page.
She was turning it over, when Lord Hartledon's voice on the stairs caught
her ear. He seemed to be coming up.

Ay, and he would have caught her at her work but for the accidental
circumstance of the old dowager's happening to look out of the
drawing-room and detaining him, as he was hastening onwards up the
stairs. She did her daughter good service that moment, if she had never
done it before. Maude had time to fold the letter, put it back, lock the
cabinet, and escape. Had she been a nervous woman, given to being
flurried and to losing her presence of mind, she might not have
succeeded; but she was cool and quick in emergency, her brain and fingers
steady.

Nevertheless her heart beat a little as she stood within the other room,
the door not latched behind her. She did not stir, lest he should hear
her; and she hoped to remain unseen until he went down a