s.
Nyttleton and Tayling, solicitors, Lincoln's Inn Fields.'

A copy of each paper was sent to Miss Aldclyffe on the day of
publication. The same evening she told Cytherea that she was advertising
for a steward, who would live at the old manor-house, showing her the
papers containing the announcement.

What was the drift of that remark? thought the maiden; or was it merely
made to her in confidential intercourse, as other arrangements were
told her daily. Yet it seemed to have more meaning than common. She
remembered the conversation about architects and surveyors, and her
brother Owen. Miss Aldclyffe knew that his situation was precarious,
that he was well educated and practical, and was applying himself heart
and soul to the details of the profession and all connected with
it. Miss Aldclyffe might be ready to take him if he could compete
successfully with others who would reply. She hazarded a question:

'Would it be desirable for Owen to answer it?'

'Not at all,' said Miss Aldclyffe peremptorily.

A flat answer of this kind had ceased to alarm Cytherea. Miss
Aldclyffe's blunt mood was not her worst. Cytherea thought of another
man, whose name, in spite of resolves, tears, renunciations and injured
pride, lingered in her ears like an old familiar strain. That man was
qualified for a stewardship under a king.

'Would it be of any use if Edward Springrove were to answer it?' she
said, resolutely enunciating the name.

'None whatever,' replied Miss Aldclyffe, again in the same decided tone.

'You are very unkind to speak in that way.'

'Now don't pout like a goosie, as you are. I don't want men like either
of them, for, of course, I must look to the good of the estate rather
than to that of any individual. The man I want must have been more
specially educated. I have told you that we are going to London next
week; it is mostly on this account.'

Cytherea found that she had mistaken the drift of Miss Aldclyffe's
peculiar explicitness on the subject of advertising, and wrote to tell
her brother that if he saw the notice it would be useless to reply.

3. AUGUST THE TWENTY-FIFTH

Five days after the above-mentioned dialogue took place they went to
London, and, with scarcely a minute's pause, to the solicitors' offices
in Lincoln's Inn Fields.

They alighted opposite one of the characteristic entrances about the
place--a gate which was never, and could never be, closed, flanked by
lamp-standards carrying no