tellect
saw possibilities which did not occur to him. But it was not till
she found herself walking across the park to the cottage that
she remembered that any inquiries as to her past life might be
disagreeable to Mrs. Askerton. She had thought of asking her friend
plainly whether the names of Vigo and Berdmore had ever been familiar
to her; but she reminded herself that there had been rumours afloat,
and that there might be a mystery. Mrs. Askerton would sometimes talk
of her early life; but she would do this with dreamy, indistinct
language, speaking of the sorrows of her girlhood, but not specifying
their exact nature, seldom mentioning any names, and never referring
with clear personality to those who had been nearest to her when
she had been a child. Clara had seen her friend's maiden name, Mary
Oliphant, written in a book, and seeing it had alluded to it. On
that occasion Mrs. Askerton had spoken of herself as having been an
Oliphant, and thus Clara had come to know the fact. But now, as she
made her way to the cottage, she remembered that she had learned
nothing more than this as to Mrs. Askerton's early life. Such being
the case, she hardly knew how to ask any question about the two names
that had been mentioned. And yet, why should she not ask such a
question? Why should she doubt Mrs. Askerton? And if she did doubt,
why should not her doubts be solved?

She found Colonel Askerton and his wife together, and she certainly
would ask no such question in his presence. He was a slight built,
wiry man, about fifty, with iron-grey hair and beard,--who seemed to
have no trouble in life, and to desire but few pleasures. Nothing
could be more regular than the course of his days, and nothing more
idle. He breakfasted at eleven, smoked and read till the afternoon,
when he rode for an hour or two; then he dined, read again, smoked
again, and went to bed. In September and October he shot, and twice
in the year, as has been before stated, went away to seek a little
excitement elsewhere. He seemed to be quite contented with his lot,
and was never heard to speak an angry word to any one. Nobody cared
for him much; but then he troubled himself with no one's affairs. He
never went to church, and had not eaten or drank in any house but his
own since he had come to Belton.

"Oh, Clara, you naughty girl," said Mrs. Askerton, "why didn't you
come yesterday? I was expecting you all day."

"I was busy. Really, we've grown to be qu