Gwilt's letter was returned by the post-office. She caused inquiries to
be made; and found that Mr. Blanchard was dead, and that his daughter
had left the great house for some place of retirement unknown. The next
thing she did, upon this, was to write to the heir in possession of the
estate. The letter was answered by his solicitors, who were instructed
to put the law in force at the first attempt she made to extort money
from any member of the family at Thorpe Ambrose. The last chance was
to get at the address of her mistress's place of retirement. The family
bankers, to whom she wrote, wrote back to say that they were instructed
not to give the lady's address to any one applying for it, without being
previously empowered to do so by the lady herself. That last letter
settled the question--Miss Gwilt could do nothing more. With money at
her command, she might have gone to England and made the Blanchards
think twice before they carried things with too high a hand. Not having
a half-penny at command, she was helpless. Without money and
without friends, you may wonder how she supported herself while the
correspondence was going on. She supported herself by playing the
piano-forte at a low concert-room in Brussels. The men laid siege to
her, of course, in all directions; but they found her insensible as
adamant. One of these rejected gentlemen was a Russian; and he was the
means of making her acquainted with a countrywoman of his, whose name is
unpronounceable by English lips. Let us give her her title, and call
her the baroness. The two women liked each other at their first
introduction; and a new scene opened in Miss Gwilt's life. She became
reader and companion to the baroness. Everything was right, everything
was smooth on the surface. Everything was rotten and everything was
wrong under it."

"In what way, Jemmy? Please to wait a little, and tell me in what way."

"In this way. The baroness was fond of traveling, and she had a select
set of friends about her who were quite of her way of thinking. They
went from one city on the Continent to another, and were such charming
people that they picked up acquaintances everywhere. The acquaintances
were invited to the baroness's receptions, and card-tables were
invariably a part of the baroness's furniture. Do you see it now?
or must I tell you, in the strictest confidence, that cards were not
considered sinful on these festive occasions, and that the luck, at the
end of