her again?"

"I thought her a very distinguished-looking person, Sir Patrick. I
should certainly know her again."

"Have you any reason to think she noticed you?"

"She never even looked at me, Sir Patrick."

"Very good. Put a change of linen into your bag, Duncan--I may possibly
want you to take a journey by railway. Wait for me in the stable-yard.
This is a matter in which every thing is trusted to my discretion, and
to yours."

"Thank you, Sir Patrick."

With that acknowledgment of the compliment which had been just paid to
him, Duncan gravely went his way to the stables; and Duncan's master
returned to the summer-house, to wait there until he was joined by
Blanche.

Sir Patrick showed signs of failing patience during the interval of
expectation through which he was now condemned to pass. He applied
perpetually to the snuff-box in the knob of his cane. He fidgeted
incessantly in and out of the summer-house. Anne's disappearance had
placed a serious obstacle in the way of further discovery; and there
was no attacking that obstacle, until precious time had been wasted in
waiting to see Blanche.

At last she appeared in view, from the steps of the summer-house;
breathless and eager, hasting to the place of meeting as fast as her
feet would take her to it.

Sir Patrick considerately advanced, to spare her the shock of making the
inevitable discovery. "Blanche," he said. "Try to prepare yourself, my
dear, for a disappointment. I am alone."

"You don't mean that you have let her go?"

"My poor child! I have never seen her at all."

Blanche pushed by him, and ran into the summer-house. Sir Patrick
followed her. She came out again to meet him, with a look of blank
despair. "Oh, uncle! I did so truly pity her! And see how little pity
she has for _me!_"

Sir Patrick put his arm round his niece, and softly patted the fair
young head that dropped on his shoulder.

"Don't let us judge her harshly, my dear: we don't know what serious
necessity may not plead her excuse. It is plain that she can trust
nobody--and that she only consented to see me to get you out of the room
and spare you the pain of parting. Compose yourself, Blanche. I don't
despair of discovering where she has gone, if you will help me."

Blanche lifted her head, and dried her tears bravely.

"My father himself wasn't kinder to me than you are," she said. "Only
tell me, uncle, what I can do!"

"I want to hear exactly what happened in the lib