ke an egg into her cup and busied herself
seasoning it, although she did not even taste it after it was prepared.
Excitement and anxiety had destroyed her appetite.

Two or three times every week, of late, there had been just such a scene
as this when the mail came in after the arrival of a steamer.

No letters came from Virgie. At least, <i>he</i> received none; for they were
all cunningly abstracted before the bag came into the house, and Sir
William did not dream that any one possessed a key to it save himself, and
so, of course was unsuspicious of any plot.

It was simply unaccountable to him, and he was, as he said, almost wild
from anxiety on account of his dear ones.

He could not touch his food this morning, his disappointment was so great,
and he nervously unfolded his paper and began to look for an announcement
of the sailing of some steamer.

"The Cephalonia will sail on Saturday," he remarked, at length. "This is
Wednesday. I shall leave on Friday for Liverpool. You can break the news
to my mother, and I am sure you will do very well without me until my
return. She must strive to be reasonable, for I cannot live like this
another week."

"Very well; I will do my best to keep her cheerful while you are gone,"
returned Lady Linton, trying to appear at ease, although she was quaking
in mortal fear lest all her plotting should come to naught.

She sometimes regretted having written that last letter and sent that
hundred pounds to Virgie. She began to fear that she might have
overreached herself by so doing, for, if her brother and his wife should
meet, Virgie would of course tell her husband everything, and he would at
once understand that his sister had been guilty of all the
mischief--intercepted letters, and all. She knew that he would never
forgive her; she would be ignominiously banished from Heathdale, and be
obliged to hide herself at Linton Grange, where she would lead a life of
poverty and seclusion; so it is not strange that she trembled at the
thought of Sir William sailing for America.

"Shall you return at once?" she asked, as they arose from the table.

"Just as soon as I can possibly arrange to do so; and, Miriam, I want no
pains spared to make the home-coming of my wife an agreeable one."

"You shall be obeyed," Lady Linton replied, with downcast eyes and a
heavily throbbing heart; "but of course you will let me know when to
expect you."

"Certainly; and the suite of rooms over the li