Canon Livingstone. Don't let him go, please. I won't
be long--half an hour, I think. Only let me be alone."

There was a hurried feverish sharpness in her tone that made Mrs. Forbes
very anxious, but she judged it best to comply with her requests.

The letters were brought, the lights were arranged so that she could read
them lying on her bed; and they left her. Then she got up and stood on
her feet, dizzy enough, her arms clasped at the top of her head, her eyes
dilated and staring as if looking at some great horror. But after a few
minutes she sat down suddenly, and began to read. Letters were evidently
missing. Some had been sent by an opportunity that had been delayed on
the journey, and had not yet arrived in Rome. Others had been despatched
by the post, but the severe weather, the unusual snow, had, in those
days, before the railway was made between Lyons and Marseilles, put a
stop to many a traveller's plans, and had rendered the transmission of
the mail extremely uncertain; so, much of that intelligence which Miss
Monro had evidently considered as certain to be known to Ellinor was
entirely matter of conjecture, and could only be guessed at from what was
told in these letters. One was from Mr. Johnson, one from Mr. Brown, one
from Miss Monro; of course the last mentioned was the first read. She
spoke of the shock of the discovery of Mr. Dunster's body, found in the
cutting of the new line of railroad from Hamley to the nearest railway
station; the body so hastily buried long ago, in its clothes, by which it
was now recognised--a recognition confirmed by one or two more personal
and indestructible things, such as his watch and seal with his initials;
of the shock to everyone, the Osbaldistones in particular, on the further
discovery of a fleam or horse-lancet, having the name of Abraham Dixon
engraved on the handle; how Dixon had gone on Mr. Osbaldistone's business
to a horse-fair in Ireland some weeks before this, and had had his leg
broken by a kick from an unruly mare, so that he was barely able to move
about when the officers of justice went to apprehend him in Tralee.

At this point Ellinor cried out loud and shrill.

"Oh, Dixon! Dixon! and I was away enjoying myself."

They heard her cry, and came to the door, but it was bolted inside.

"Please, go away," she said; "please, go. I will be very quiet; only,
please, go."

She could not bear just then to read any more of Miss Monro's letter; sh