t, were attributable to
the same cause. She hid it from her uncle, she hid it from Arnold--but
she was as anxious as ever, and as wretched as ever, about Anne; and she
was still on the watch (no matter what Sir Patrick might say or do) to
seize the first opportunity of renewing the search for her lost friend.

Meanwhile the eating, the drinking, and the talking went merrily on.
The band played its liveliest melodies; the servants kept the glasses
constantly filled: round all the tables gayety and freedom reigned
supreme. The one conversation in progress, in which the talkers were
not in social harmony with each other, was the conversation at Blanche's
side, between her step-mother and Mrs. Delamayn.

Among Lady Lundie's other accomplishments the power of making
disagreeable discoveries ranked high. At the dinner in the glade she had
not failed to notice--what every body else had passed over--the absence
at the festival of the hostess's brother-in-law; and more remarkable
still, the disappearance of a lady who was actually one of the guests
staying in the house: in plainer words, the disappearance of Mrs.
Glenarm.

"Am I mistaken?" said her ladyship, lifting her eye-glass, and looking
round the tables. "Surely there is a member of our party missing? I
don't see Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn."

"Geoffrey promised to be here. But he is not particularly attentive, as
you may have noticed, to keeping engagements of this sort. Every thing
is sacrificed to his training. We only see him at rare intervals now."

With that reply Mrs. Delamayn attempted to change the subject. Lady
Lundie lifted her eye-glass, and looked round the tables for the second
time.

"Pardon me," persisted her ladyship--"but is it possible that I have
discovered another absentee? I don't see Mrs. Glenarm. Yet surely she
must be here! Mrs. Glenarm is not training for a foot-race. Do you see
her? _I_ don't."

"I missed her when we went out on the terrace, and I have not seen her
since."

"Isn't it very odd, dear Mrs. Delamayn?"

"Our guests at Swanhaven, Lady Lundie, have perfect liberty to do as
they please."

In those words Mrs. Delamayn (as she fondly imagined) dismissed the
subject. But Lady Lundie's robust curiosity proved unassailable by even
the broadest hint. Carried away, in all probability, by the infection
of merriment about her, her ladyship displayed unexpected reserves of
vivacity. The mind declines to realize it; but it is not the less tr