rance. "We should have saved
time, money, anxiety: we might have settled the matter without troubling
Miss Murray, or agitating Mrs. Luttrell; and I call it downright
dishonesty to have concealed a fact which was of such vital importance,"
said Mr. Colquhoun, who had lost his temper. And Percival flung himself
out of the room in a rage.

He was still inwardly fuming when he seated himself beside Elizabeth
that afternoon in a little low carriage drawn by two grey ponies--an
equipage which she specially affected--in order to drive to Dunmuir. For
full five minutes neither of them spoke, but at last Elizabeth said,
with a faint accent of surprise:--

"I thought you had something to say to me."

"I have so many things that I don't know where to begin. Have you
nothing to say--about what I told you last night?"

"I can only say that I am very glad of it."

"The deuce you are!" thought Percival, but his lips were sealed.
Elizabeth went on to explain herself.

"I am glad, because now I understand various things that were very hard
for me to understand before. I can see why Mr. Stretton hesitated about
coming here; I see why he was startled when he discovered that I was the
very girl whom he must have heard of before he left England. Of course,
I should never have objected to surrender the property to its rightful
owner; but in this case I shall be not only willing but pleased to give
it back."

Her tone was proud and independent. Percival did not like it, but would
not say so.

"I was saying last night," she continued, "that Brian Luttrell must come
back. This discovery makes his return all the more necessary. I am going
now to ask Mr. Colquhoun what steps had better be taken for bringing him
home."

"Do you think he will come?"

"He must come. He must be made to see that it is right for him to come.
I have been thinking of what I will ask Mr. Colquhoun to say to him. If
he remembers me"--and her voice sank a little--"he will not refuse to do
what would so greatly lighten my burden."

"Better write yourself, Elizabeth," said Percival, in a sad yet cynical
tone. "You can doubtless say what would bring him back by the next
steamer."

She made no answer, but set her lips a little more firmly, and gave one
of the grey ponies a slight touch with the whip. It was the silence that
caused Percival to see that she was wounded.

"I have a knack of saying what I don't mean," he remarked, rousing
himself. "I beg your par