Accidentally looking downward while I was weighing these probabilities,
I noticed a small black object on the carpet, lying just under the key,
on the inner side of the door. I picked the thing up, and found that it
was a torn morsel of black lace.

The instant I saw the fragment, I was reminded of the long black veil,
hanging below her waist, which it was the habit of Miss Dunross to wear.
Was it _her_ dress, then, that I had heard softly traveling over the
carpet; _her_ kiss that had touched my forehead; _her_ sigh that had
trembled through the silence? Had the ill-fated and noble creature taken
her last leave of me in the dead of night, trusting the preservation of
her secret to the deceitful appearances which persuaded her that I was
asleep? I looked again at the fragment of black lace. Her long veil
might easily have been caught, and torn, by the projecting key, as she
passed rapidly through the door on her way out of my room. Sadly and
reverently I laid the morsel of lace among the treasured memorials which
I had brought with me from home. To the end of her life, I vowed it, she
should be left undisturbed in the belief that her secret was safe in her
own breast! Ardently as I still longed to take her hand at parting, I
now resolved to make no further effort to see her. I might not be master
of my own emotions; something in my face or in my manner might betray me
to her quick and delicate perception. Knowing what I now knew, the last
sacrifice I could make to her would be to obey her wishes. I made the
sacrifice.

In an hour more Peter informed me that the ponies were at the door, and
that the Master was waiting for me in the outer hall.

I noticed that Mr. Dunross gave me his hand, without looking at me. His
faded blue eyes, during the few minutes while we were together, were not
once raised from the ground.

"God speed you on your journey, sir, and guide you safely home," he
said. "I beg you to forgive me if I fail to accompany you on the first
few miles of your journey. There are reasons which oblige me to remain
with my daughter in the house."

He was scrupulously, almost painfully, courteous; but there was
something in his manner which, for the first time in my experience,
seemed designedly to keep me at a distance from him. Knowing the
intimate sympathy, the perfect confidence, which existed between the
father and daughter, a doubt crossed my mind whether the secret of the
past night was entirely a secr