ggett continued to
bewail her destiny.

Mr Blake having got rid of the old woman, and bethinking himself
of the disagreeable incidents to which a gentleman with a larger
establishment than his own might be liable, made his way into the
sitting-room, where he found Mary Lawrie alone; and having apologised
for the manner of his intrusion, and having said something intended
to be jocose as to the legs of the warrior in the stable, at once
asked a question as to John Gordon.

"Mr Gordon!" said Mary. "He was here this morning with Mr
Whittlestaff, but I know nothing of him since."

"He hasn't gone back to London?"

"I don't know where he has gone. He slept in Alresford last night,
but I know nothing of him since."

"He sent his bag by the boy at the inn down to the railway station
when he came up here. I found his bag there, but heard nothing of
him. They told me at the inn that he was to come up here, and I
thought I should either find him here or meet him on the road."

"Do you want to find him especially?"

"Well, yes."

"Do you know Mr Gordon?"

"Well, yes; I do. That is to say, he dined with me last night. We
were at Oxford together, and yesterday evening we got talking about
our adventures since."

"He told you that he had been at the diamond-fields?"

"Oh, yes; I know all about the diamond-fields. But Mr Hall
particularly wants to see him up at the Park." (Mr Hall was the
squire with four daughters who lived at Little Alresford.) "Mr Hall
says that he knew his father many years ago, and sent me out to look
for him. I shall be wretched if he goes away without coming to Little
Alresford House. He can't go back to London before four o'clock,
because there is no train. You know nothing about his movements?"

"Nothing at all. For some years past Mr Gordon has been altogether a
stranger to me." Mr Blake looked into her face, and was aware that
there was something to distress her. He at once gathered from her
countenance that Mr Whittlestaff had been like the dog that stuck
to his bone, and that John Gordon was like the other dog--the
disappointed one--and had been turned out from the neighbourhood of
the kennel. "I should imagine that Mr Gordon has gone away, if not
to London, then in some other direction." It was clear that the young
lady intended him to understand that she could say nothing and knew
nothing as to Mr Gordon's movements.

"I suppose I must go down to the station and leave word for him
the