formed her that Mr. Dunboyne had gone away to
London by the morning train. No apology or explanation left for me.

_Can_ he have deserted me? I am in such a frenzy of doubt and rage that
I can hardly write that horrible question. Is it possible--oh, I feel it
_is_ possible that he has gone away with Eunice. Do I know where to find
them? if I did know, what could I do? I feel as if I could kill them
both!

CHAPTER LIII. HELENA'S DIARY RESUMED.

After the heat of my anger had cooled, I made two discoveries. One cost
me a fee to a messenger, and the other exposed me to the insolence of
a servant. I pay willingly in my purse and my pride, when the gain is
peace of mind. Through my messenger I ascertained that Eunice had never
left the farm. Through my own inquiries, answered by the waiter with an
impudent grin, I heard that Philip had left orders to have his room kept
for him. What misery our stupid housemaid might have spared me, if she
had thought of putting that question when I sent her to the hotel!

The rest of the day passed in vain speculations on Philip's motive for
this sudden departure. What poor weak creatures we are! I persuaded
myself to hope that anxiety for our marriage had urged him to make an
effort to touch the heart of his mean father. Shall I see him to-morrow?
And shall I have reason to be fonder of him than ever?

We met again to-day as usual. He has behaved infamously.

When I asked what had been his object in going to London, I was told
that it was "a matter of business." He made that idiotic excuse as
coolly as if he really thought I should believe it. I submitted in
silence, rather than mar his return to me by the disaster of a quarrel.
But this was an unlucky day. A harder trial of my self-control was still
to come. Without the slightest appearance of shame, Philip informed me
that he was charged with a message from Mrs. Tenbruggen! She wanted some
Irish lace, and would I be so good as to tell her which was the best
shop at which she could buy it?

Was he really in earnest? "You," I said, "who distrusted and detested
her--you are on friendly terms with that woman?"

He remonstrated with me. "My dear Helena, don't speak in that way
of Mrs. Tenbruggen. We have both been mistaken about her. That good
creature has forgiven the brutal manner in which I spoke to her, when
she was in attendance on my father. She was the first to propose that
we should shake hands and forget it. My darling,