se alone; went
straight to the smoking-room; and calling for another supply of the old
ale, settled himself in an arm-chair with the newspaper, and began to
smoke.

He soon tired of reading, and fell into thinking of what had happened
during the latter part of his walk.

The prospect before him had more than realized the most sanguine
anticipations that he could have formed of it. He had braced
himself--after what had happened in the library--to face the outbreak
of a serious scandal, on his return to the house. And here--when he came
back--was nothing to face! Here were three people (Sir Patrick, Arnold,
and Blanche) who must at least know that Anne was in some serious
trouble keeping the secret as carefully as if they felt that his
interests were at stake! And, more wonderful still, here was Anne
herself--so far from raising a hue and cry after him--actually taking
flight without saying a word that could compromise him with any living
soul!

What in the name of wonder did it mean? He did his best to find his way
to an explanation of some sort; and he actually contrived to account for
the silence of Blanche and her uncle, and Arnold. It was pretty clear
that they must have all three combined to keep Lady Lundie in ignorance
of her runaway governess's return to the house.

But the secret of Anne's silence completely baffled him.

He was simply incapable of conceiving that the horror of seeing herself
set up as an obstacle to Blanche's marriage might have been vivid
enough to overpower all sense of her own wrongs, and to hurry her away,
resolute, in her ignorance of what else to do, never to return again,
and never to let living eyes rest on her in the character of Arnold's
wife. "It's clean beyond _my_ making out," was the final conclusion at
which Geoffrey arrived. "If it's her interest to hold her tongue, it's
my interest to hold mine, and there's an end of it for the present!"

He put up his feet on a chair, and rested his magnificent muscles after
his walk, and filled another pipe, in thorough contentment with himself.
No interference to dread from Anne, no more awkward questions (on the
terms they were on now) to come from Arnold. He looked back at the
quarrel on the heath with a certain complacency--he did his friend
justice; though they _had_ disagreed. "Who would have thought the fellow
had so much pluck in him!" he said to himself as he struck the match and
lit his second pipe.

An hour more wore on; a