timation.
Don't act so as to risk putting yourself in a false position _again!_
Don't let it be possible that a feeling unworthy of her should be roused
in the loving and generous nature of your future wife!

"This written, I may now tell you how to communicate with me after I
have left this place.

"You will find on the slip of paper inclosed the name and address of the
second of the two lawyers whom I consulted in Glasgow. It is arranged
between us that I am to inform him, by letter, of the next place to
which I remove, and that he is to communicate the information either to
you or to Sir Patrick Lundie, on your applying for it personally or by
writing. I don't yet know myself where I may find refuge. Nothing is
certain but that I can not, in my present state of weakness, travel far.

"If you wonder why I move at all until I am stronger, I can only give a
reason which may appear fanciful and overstrained.

"I have been informed that I was advertised in the Glasgow newspapers
during the time when I lay at this hotel, a stranger at the point of
death. Trouble has perhaps made me morbidly suspicious. I am afraid of
what may happen if I stay here, after my place of residence has been
made publicly known. So, as soon as I can move, I go away in secret. It
will be enough for me, if I can find rest and peace in some quiet place,
in the country round Glasgow. You need feel no anxiety about my means
of living. I have money enough for all that I need--and, if I get well
again, I know how to earn my bread.

"I send no message to Blanche--I dare not till this is over. Wait till
she is your happy wife; and then give her a kiss, and say it comes from
Anne.

"Try and forgive me, dear Mr. Brinkworth. I have said all. Yours
gratefully,

"ANNE SILVESTER."

Sir Patrick put the letter down with unfeigned respect for the woman who
had written it.

Something of the personal influence which Anne exercised more or less
over all the men with whom she came in contact seemed to communicate
itself to the old lawyer through the medium of her letter. His thoughts
perversely wandered away from the serious and pressing question of his
niece's position into a region of purely speculative inquiry relating to
Anne. What infatuation (he asked himself) had placed that noble creature
at the mercy of such a man as Geoffrey Delamayn?

We have all, at one time or another in our lives, been perplexed as Sir
Patrick was perplexed now.

If we