end of the year."

"Does Miss Fairlie know of that wish?" I asked eagerly.

"She has no suspicion of it, and after what has happened, I shall not
take the responsibility upon myself of enlightening her. Sir Percival
has only mentioned his views to Mr. Fairlie, who has told me himself
that he is ready and anxious, as Laura's guardian, to forward them. He
has written to London, to the family solicitor, Mr. Gilmore. Mr.
Gilmore happens to be away in Glasgow on business, and he has replied
by proposing to stop at Limmeridge House on his way back to town. He
will arrive to-morrow, and will stay with us a few days, so as to allow
Sir Percival time to plead his own cause. If he succeeds, Mr. Gilmore
will then return to London, taking with him his instructions for my
sister's marriage-settlement. You understand now, Mr. Hartright, why I
speak of waiting to take legal advice until to-morrow? Mr. Gilmore is
the old and tried friend of two generations of Fairlies, and we can
trust him, as we could trust no one else."

The marriage-settlement! The mere hearing of those two words stung me
with a jealous despair that was poison to my higher and better
instincts. I began to think--it is hard to confess this, but I must
suppress nothing from beginning to end of the terrible story that I now
stand committed to reveal--I began to think, with a hateful eagerness
of hope, of the vague charges against Sir Percival Glyde which the
anonymous letter contained. What if those wild accusations rested on a
foundation of truth? What if their truth could be proved before the
fatal words of consent were spoken, and the marriage-settlement was
drawn? I have tried to think since, that the feeling which then
animated me began and ended in pure devotion to Miss Fairlie's
interests, but I have never succeeded in deceiving myself into
believing it, and I must not now attempt to deceive others. The
feeling began and ended in reckless, vindictive, hopeless hatred of the
man who was to marry her.

"If we are to find out anything," I said, speaking under the new
influence which was now directing me, "we had better not let another
minute slip by us unemployed. I can only suggest, once more, the
propriety of questioning the gardener a second time, and of inquiring
in the village immediately afterwards."

"I think I may be of help to you in both cases," said Miss Halcombe,
rising. "Let us go, Mr. Hartright, at once, and do the best we can
toget