'

A little 'Ah!' came from Ethelberta, like a note from a storm-bird at
night. She turned round and went into the back room. 'Is Mr. Julian
going to call here?' she inquired, coming forward again.

'No--he's gone by the steamboat. He was only passing through on his way
to Sandbourne, where he is gone to settle a small business relating to
his father's affairs. He was not in Knollsea ten minutes, owing to
something which detained him on the way.'

'Did he inquire for me?'

'No. And only think, Ethelberta--such a remarkable thing has happened,
though I nearly forgot to tell you. He says that coming along the road
he was overtaken by a carriage, and when it had just passed him one of
the horses shied, pushed the other down a slope, and overturned the
carriage. One wheel came off and trundled to the bottom of the hill by
itself. Christopher of course ran up, and helped out of the carriage an
old gentleman--now do you know what's likely?'

'It was Lord Mountclere. I am glad that's the cause,' said Ethelberta
involuntarily.

'I imagined you would suppose it to be Lord Mountclere. But Mr. Julian
did not know the gentleman, and said nothing about who he might be.'

'Did he describe him?'

'Not much--just a little.'

'Well?'

'He said he was a sly old dog apparently, to hear how he swore in
whispers. This affair is what made Mr. Julian so late that he had no
time to call here. Lord Mountclere's ankle--if it was Lord
Mountclere--was badly sprained. But the servants were not injured beyond
a scratch on the coachman's face. Then they got another carriage and
drove at once back again. It must be he, or else why is he not come? It
is a pity, too, that Mr. Julian was hindered by this, so that there was
no opportunity for him to bide a bit in Knollsea.'

Ethelberta was not disposed to believe that Christopher would have
called, had time favoured him to the utmost. Between himself and her
there was that kind of division which is more insurmountable than enmity;
for estrangements produced by good judgment will last when those of
feeling break down in smiles. Not the lovers who part in passion, but
the lovers who part in friendship, are those who most frequently part for
ever.

'Did you tell Mr. Julian that the injured gentleman was possibly Lord
Mountclere, and that he was coming here?' said Ethelberta.

'I made no remark at all--I did not think of him till afterwards.'

The inquiry was hardly necessa