over
the last lines of the dead man's writing.

"_Her_ tears," said Norah, softly.

Miss Garth's head drooped low over the mute revelation of Magdalen's
return to her better self.

"Oh, never doubt her again!" pleaded Norah. "We are alone now--we have
our hard way through the world to walk on as patiently as we can. If
Magdalen ever falters and turns back, help her for the love of old
times; help her against herself."

"With all my heart and strength--as God shall judge me, with the
devotion of my whole life!" In those fervent words Miss Garth answered.
She took the hand which Norah held out to her, and put it, in sorrow and
humility, to her lips. "Oh, my love, forgive me! I have been miserably
blind--I have never valued you as I ought!"

Norah gently checked her before she could say more; gently whispered,
"Come with me into the garden--come, and help Magdalen to look patiently
to the future."

The future! Who could see the faintest glimmer of it? Who could see
anything but the ill-omened figure of Michael Vanstone, posted darkly
on the verge of the present time--and closing all the prospect that lay
beyond him?

CHAPTER XV.

ON the next morning but one, news was received from Mr. Pendril.
The place of Michael Vanstone's residence on the Continent had been
discovered. He was living at Zurich; and a letter had been dispatched to
him, at that place, on the day when the information was obtained. In the
course of the coming week an answer might be expected, and the purport
of it should be communicated forthwith to the ladies at Combe-Raven.

Short as it was, the interval of delay passed wearily. Ten days elapsed
before the expected answer was received; and when it came at last, it
proved to be, strictly speaking, no answer at all. Mr. Pendril had been
merely referred to an agent in London who was in possession of Michael
Vanstone's instructions. Certain difficulties had been discovered in
connection with those instructions, which had produced the necessity of
once more writing to Zurich. And there "the negotiations" rested again
for the present.

A second paragraph in Mr. Pendril's letter contained another piece of
intelligence entirely new. Mr. Michael Vanstone's son (and only child),
Mr. Noel Vanstone, had recently arrived in London, and was then staying
in lodgings occupied by his cousin, Mr. George Bartram. Professional
considerations had induced Mr. Pendril to pay a visit to the lodgings.
He had bee