was sick and
tired of writing: he wished he had never been born, and he loathed the
sight of pen and ink. All Mrs. Lecount's patience and all Mrs. Lecount's
persuasion were required to induce him to write t he admiral's address
for the second time. She only succeeded by bringing the blank envelope
to him upon the paper-case, and putting it coaxingly on his lap. He
grumbled, he even swore, but he directed the envelope at last, in these
terms: "To Admiral Bartram, St. Crux-in-the-Marsh. Favored by Mrs.
Lecount." With that final act of compliance his docility came to an end.
He refused, in the fiercest terms, to seal the envelope. There was no
need to press this proceeding on him. His seal lay ready on the table,
and it mattered nothing whether he used it, or whether a person in his
confidence used it for him. Mrs. Lecount sealed the envelope, with its
two important inclosures placed safely inside.

She opened her traveling-bag for the last time, and pausing for a moment
before she put the sealed packet away, looked at it with a triumph
too deep for words. She smiled as she dropped it into the bag. Not the
shadow of a suspicion that the Will might contain superfluous phrases
and expressions which no practical lawyer would have used; not the
vestige of a doubt whether the Letter was quite as complete a document
as a practical lawyer might have made it, troubled her mind. In blind
reliance--born of her hatred for Magdalen and her hunger for revenge--in
blind reliance on her own abilities and on her friend's law, she trusted
the future implicitly to the promise of the morning's work.

As she locked her traveling-bag Noel Vanstone rang the bell. On this
occasion, the summons was answered by Louisa.

"Get the spare room ready," said her master; "this lady will sleep
here to-night. And air my warm things; this lady and I are going away
to-morrow morning."

The civil and submissive Louisa received her orders in sullen
silence--darted an angry look at her master's impenetrable guest--and
left the room. The servants were evidently all attached to their
mistress's interests, and were all of one opinion on the subject of Mrs.
Lecount.

"That's done!" said Noel Vanstone, with a sigh of infinite relief.
"Come and sit down, Lecount. Let's be comfortable--let's gossip over the
fire."

Mrs. Lecount accepted the invitation and drew an easy-chair to his side.
He took her hand with a confidential tenderness, and held it in his
while