your charming society, Miss
Wedderburn, but business calls me imperatively to England; and, at
least, I am sure that my wife can not be unhappy with such a companion
as her sister."

"You are going to England?"

"I am going to England. I have been called so hastily that I can make no
arrangements for Adelaide to accompany me, and indeed it would not be at
all pleasant for her, as I am only going on business; but I hope to
return for her and bring her home in a few weeks. I am leaving Arkwright
with you. He will see that you have all you want."

Sir Peter was smiling, ever smiling, with the smile which was my horror.

"A brilliant ball, last night, was it not?" he added, extending his
hand to me, in farewell, and looking at me intently with eyes that
fascinated and repelled me at once.

"Very, but--but--you were not there?"

"Was I not? I have a strong impression that I was. Ask my lady if she
thinks I was there. And now good-bye, and _au revoir_!"

He loosened my hand, descended the steps, entered the carriage, and was
driven away. His departure ought to have raised a great weight from my
mind, but it did not; it impressed me with a sense of coming disaster.

Adelaide breakfasted in her room. When I had finished I went to her. Her
behavior puzzled me. She seemed elated, excited, at the absence of Sir
Peter, and yet, suddenly turning to me, she exclaimed, eagerly:

"Oh, May! I wish I had been going to England, too! I wish I could leave
this place, and never see it again."

"Was Sir Peter at the ball, Adelaide?" I asked.

She turned suddenly pale; her lip trembled; her eye wavered, as she said
in a low, uneasy voice:

"I believe he was--yes; in domino."

"What a sneaking thing to do!" I remarked, candidly. "He had told us
particularly that he was not coming."

"That very statement should have put us on our guard," she remarked.

"On our guard? Against what?" I asked, unsuspectingly.

"Oh, nothing--nothing! I wonder when he will return! I would give a
world to be in England!" she said, with a heartsick sigh; and I, feeling
very much bewildered, left her.

In the afternoon, despite wind and weather, I sallied forth, and took my
way to my old lodgings in the Wehrhahn. Crossing a square leading to the
street I was going to, I met Anna Sartorius. She bowed, looking at me
mockingly. I returned her salutation, and remembered last night again
with painful distinctness. The air seemed full of mysteries and
un