entered into the spirit of the thing. He was fond of making calls at all
times, and only needed the slightest hint to betake himself to any house
in the neighbourhood.

It is true that the veriest trifle would also throw him off the track; a
fieldmouse in the path was a lion,--but given no fieldmouse, he might be
trusted to reach his destination, and when reached, the only difficulty
was to get him away from it. Wherever he was, there would he take root;
and having no claims elsewhere, it did not occur to him that other
people's time was more precious than his own.

Accordingly he had spent, satisfactorily to himself, the best part of
three afternoons with the Boldero girls, and though Mrs. Stubbs had
been invisible on each occasion, he had got on quite well without
her--indeed rather chuckled at the reflection that it would in
consequence be necessary for him to turn up again ere long at the Abbey.

Mrs. Purcell was not so complacent, however. "Dear me, how
extraordinary, Val."

"Very extraordinary, ma'am." Val shook his head wisely, and looked for
more. His grandmother was so clever she would be sure to think of
something more to say, some explanation of the strangeness.

"They spoke of her, of course?"--she threw out, after a meditative
pause. "You gathered that she was there, and----"

"Oh, aye, they spoke of her. That's to say I heard old Sue say something
about 'Leonore,' and when Maud came in--she wasn't there at first--the
others asked where she had been, and she said, 'We went somewhere or
other'. 'We' couldn't have been any one else, you know; they never go
out with the general. Besides--stop a bit--why, of course, the footman
took away her tea on a tray."

"Three distinct and indisputable testimonies," observed Mrs. Purcell
drily.

She was vexed, and had it been any other narrator who pieced his
materials together in such a fashion, would have let loose a more
palpable sarcasm.

Why could he not have asked directly after Leonore, upon the mention of
her name? Why did he even wait for that? It would have been so simple,
so natural, to have hoped she was well or hoped she was not ill--hoped
something, anything, when the tea was openly sent her elsewhere. The
opportunity was obvious; and as obviously the tiresome boy had missed
it. She contented herself, however, with a grim smile.

"I expect Leo was somewhere out of sight." After a minute's reflection,
Val advanced the above as its result. "They co