ou
one other thing, between ourselves. Lord Holchester's announcement
that his brother refuses to consent to a separation put my uncle almost
beside himself. If there is not some change for the better in your life
in a few days' time, Sir Patrick will find out a way of his own--lawful
or not, he doesn't care--for rescuing you from the dreadful position in
which you are placed, and Arnold (with my full approval) will help him.
As we understand it, you are, under one pretense or another, kept a
close prisoner. Sir Patrick has already secured a post of observation
near you. He and Arnold went all round the cottage last night, and
examined a door in your back garden wall, with a locksmith to help them.
You will no doubt hear further about this from Sir Patrick himself. Pray
don't appear to know any thing of it when you see him! I am not in his
confidence--but Arnold is, which comes to the same thing exactly. You
will see us (I mean you will see my uncle and me) to-morrow, in spite
of the brute who keeps you under lock and key. Arnold will not accompany
us; he is not to be trusted (he owns it himself) to control his
indignation. Courage, dearest! There are two people in the world to whom
you are inestimably precious, and who are determined not to let your
happiness be sacrificed. I am one of them, and (for Heaven's sake keep
this a secret also!) Sir Patrick is the other."

Absorbed in the letter, and in the conflict of opposite feelings which
it roused--her color rising when it turned her thoughts inward on
herself, and fading again when she was reminded by it of the coming
visit--Anne was called back to a sense of present events by the
reappearance of the servant, charged with a message. Mr. Speedwell had
been for some time in the cottage, and he was now waiting to see her
down stairs.

Anne found the surgeon alone in the drawing-room. He apologized for
disturbing her at that early hour.

"It was impossible for me to get to Fulham yesterday," he said, "and
I could only make sure of complying with Lord Holchester's request by
coming here before the time at which I receive patients at home. I have
seen Mr. Delamayn, and I have requested permission to say a word to you
on the subject of his health."

Anne looked through the window, and saw Geoffrey smoking his pipe--not
in the back garden, as usual, but in front of the cottage, where he
could keep his eye on the gate.

"Is he ill?" she asked.

"He is seriously ill," an