overnor," she added, pleasantly; "and the other, if you only
walk fast enough, you will leave behind you on the road. If I believed
in luck--which I don't--I should call you a fortunate man."

But companionable Selina would not hear of a separation. She asked,
in her most irresistible manner, if I objected to driving instead of
walking. Her heart's dearest wish, she said, was to make her bosom
friend and myself better acquainted with each other. To conclude, she
reminded me that there was a cab-stand in the next street.

Perhaps I might have been influenced by my distrust of Mrs. Tenbruggen,
or perhaps by my anxiety to protect Eunice. It struck me that I might
warn the defenseless girl to be on her guard with Mrs. Tenbruggen to
better purpose, if Eunice was in a position to recognize her in any
future emergency that might occur. To my mind, this dangerous woman was
doubly formidable--and for a good reason; she was the bosom friend of
that innocent and unwary person, Miss Jillgall. So I amiably consented
to forego my walk, yielding to the superior attraction of Mrs.
Tenbruggen's company. On that day the sunshine was tempered by a
delightful breeze. If we had been in the biggest and worst-governed city
on the civilised earth, we should have found no public vehicle, open to
the air, which could offer accommodation to three people. Being only in
a country town, we had a light four-wheeled chaise at our disposal, as a
matter of course.

No wise man expects to be mercifully treated, when he is shut into a
carriage with a mature single lady, inflamed by curiosity. I was not
unprepared for Miss Jillgall when she alluded, for the second time, to
the sad events which had happened in the house on the previous day--and
especially to the destruction by Mr. Gracedieu of the portrait of his
wife.

"Why didn't he destroy something else?" she pleaded, piteously. "It
is such a disappointment to Me. I never liked that picture myself.
Of course I ought to have admired the portrait of the wife of my
benefactor. But no--that disagreeable painted face was too much for me.
I should have felt inexpressibly relieved, if I could have shown it to
Elizabeth, and heard her say that she agreed with me."

"Perhaps I saw it when I called on you," Mrs. Tenbruggen suggested.
"Where did the picture hang?"

"My dear! I received you in the dining-room, and the portrait hung in
Mr. Gracedieu's study."

What they said to each other next escaped my att