nd paced up
and down the tolerably quiet street, deep in consultation. That we
should have need for great caution, and as much craftiness as we both
possessed, in pursuing our inquiries at No. 19 Bellringer Street, was
quite evident. Who could be this unknown Mrs. Wilkinson? Was it possible
that she might prove to be Mrs. Foster herself? At any rate, it would
not do for either of us to present ourselves there in quest of Miss
Ellen Martineau. It was finally settled between us that Johanna should
be intrusted with the diplomatic enterprise. There was not much chance
that Mrs. Foster would know her by sight, though she had been in
Guernsey; and it would excite less notice for a lady to be inquiring
after Olivia. We immediately turned our steps toward Hanover Street,
where we found her and Julia seated at some fancy-work in their sombre
drawing-room.

Julia received me with a little embarrassment, but conquered it
sufficiently to give me a warm pressure of the hand, and to whisper in
my ear that Johanna had told her every thing. Unluckily, Johanna herself
knew nothing of our discovery the night before. I kept Julia's hand in
mine, and looked steadily into her eyes.

"My dear Julia," I said, "we bring strange news. We have reason to
believe that Olivia is not dead, but that something underhand is going
on, which we cannot yet make out."

Julia's face grew crimson, but I would not let her draw her hand away
from my clasp. I held it the more firmly; and, as Jack was busy talking
to Johanna, I continued speaking to her in a lowered tone.

"My dear," I said, "you have been as true, and faithful, and generous a
friend as any man ever had. But this must not go on, for your own sake.
You fancied you loved me, because every one about us wished it to be so;
but I cannot let you waste your life on me. Speak to me exactly as your
brother. Do you believe you could be really happy with Captain Carey?"

"Arthur is so good," she murmured, "and he is so fond of me."

I had never heard her call him Arthur before. The elder members of our
Guernsey circle called him by his Christian name, but to us younger ones
he had always been Captain Carey. Julia's use of it was more eloquent
than many phrases. She had grown into the habit of calling him
familiarly by it.

"Then, Julia," I said, "what folly it would be for you to sacrifice
yourself to a false notion of faithfulness! I could not accept such a
sacrifice. Think no more of me or my ha