y everything is ordered here beforehand."

"Yet you seemed to like that kind of thing very well, last evening,"
said the consul mischievously.

"That was last night," retorted Miss Desborough; "and you know the line,
'Colors seen by candlelight do not look the same by day.' But I'm going
to be very consistent to-day, for I intend to go over to that poor man's
cottage again, and see if I can be of any service. Will you go with me?"

"Certainly," said the consul, mystified by his companion's extraordinary
conduct, yet apparent coolness of purpose, and hoping for some further
explanation. Was she only an inexperienced flirt who had found herself
on the point of a serious entanglement she had not contemplated? Yet
even then he knew she was clever enough to extricate herself in some
other way than this abrupt and brutal tearing through the meshes. Or was
it possible that she really had any intelligence affecting her property?
He reflected that he knew very little of the Desboroughs, but on the
other hand he knew that Beverdale knew them much better, and was a
prudent man. He had no right to demand her confidence as a reward for
his secrecy; he must wait her pleasure. Perhaps she would still explain;
women seldom could resist the triumph of telling the secret that puzzled
others.

When they reached the village she halted before the low roof of Debs's
cottage. "I had better go in first," she said; "you can come in later,
and in the meantime you might go to the station for me and find out the
exact time that the express train leaves for the north."

"But," said the astonished consul, "I thought you were going to London?"

"No," said Miss Desborough quietly, "I am going to join some friends at
Harrogate."

"But that train goes much earlier than the train south, and--and I'm
afraid Lord Beverdale will not have returned so soon."

"How sad!" said Miss Desborough, with a faint smile, "but we must bear
up under it, and--I'll write him. I will be here until you return."

She turned away and entered the cottage. The granddaughter she had
already seen and her sister, the servant at the Priory, were both
chatting comfortably, but ceased as she entered, and both rose with
awkward respect. There was little to suggest that the body of their
grandfather, already in a rough oak shell, was lying upon trestles
beside them.

"You have carried out my orders, I see," said Miss Desborough, laying
down her parasol.

"Ay, miss; but it w