BLERIOT."

XIV.

_From Mrs. Lecount to Mr. de Bleriot._

"November 1st.

"DEAR SIR--One line to say that your letter has just reached me at my
lodging in London. I think I know who sent the strange man to inquire at
Allonby. It matters little. Before he finds out his mistake, I shall be
at Dumfries. My luggage is packed, and I start for the North by the next
train.

"Your deeply obliged

"VIRGINIE LECOUNT."

THE FIFTH SCENE

BALIOL COTTAGE, DUMFRIES.

CHAPTER I.

TOWARD eleven o'clock, on the morning of the third of November, the
breakfast-table at Baliol Cottage presented that essentially comfortless
appearance which is caused by a meal in a state of transition--that is
to say, by a meal prepared for two persons, which has been already eaten
by one, and which has not yet been approached by the other. It must be a
hardy appetite which can contemplate without a momentary discouragement
the battered egg-shell, the fish half stripped to a skeleton, the
crumbs in the plate, and the dregs in the cup. There is surely a wise
submission to those weaknesses in human nature which must be respected
and not reproved, in the sympathizing rapidity with which servants in
places of public refreshment clear away all signs of the customer in
the past, from the eyes of the customer in the present. Although his
predecessor may have been the wife of his bosom or the child of his
loins, no man can find himself confronted at table by the traces of a
vanished eater, without a passing sense of injury in connection with the
idea of his own meal.

Some such impression as this found its way into the mind of Mr. Noel
Vanstone when he entered the lonely breakfast-parlor at Baliol Cottage
shortly after eleven o'clock. He looked at the table with a frown, and
rang the bell with an expression of disgust.

"Clear away this mess," he said, when the servant appeared. "Has your
mistress gone?"

"Yes, sir--nearly an hour ago."

"Is Louisa downstairs?"

"Yes, sir."

"When you have put the table right, send Louisa up to me."

He walked away to the window. The momentary irritation passed away from
his face; but it left an expression there which remained--an expression
of pining discontent. Personally, his marriage had altered him for the
worse. His wizen little cheeks were beginning to shrink into hollows,
his frail little figure had already contracted a slight stoop. The
former delicacy of his complexion had gone--the si