isturbed state of my mind, it was useless to think of going to
bed, when I at last got back to my chambers in Clement's Inn. Before
many hours elapsed it would be necessary to start on my journey to
Cumberland. I sat down and tried, first to sketch, then to read--but
the woman in white got between me and my pencil, between me and my
book. Had the forlorn creature come to any harm? That was my first
thought, though I shrank selfishly from confronting it. Other thoughts
followed, on which it was less harrowing to dwell. Where had she
stopped the cab? What had become of her now? Had she been traced and
captured by the men in the chaise? Or was she still capable of
controlling her own actions; and were we two following our widely
parted roads towards one point in the mysterious future, at which we
were to meet once more?

It was a relief when the hour came to lock my door, to bid farewell to
London pursuits, London pupils, and London friends, and to be in
movement again towards new interests and a new life. Even the bustle
and confusion at the railway terminus, so wearisome and bewildering at
other times, roused me and did me good.

My travelling instructions directed me to go to Carlisle, and then to
diverge by a branch railway which ran in the direction of the coast.
As a misfortune to begin with, our engine broke down between Lancaster
and Carlisle. The delay occasioned by this accident caused me to be
too late for the branch train, by which I was to have gone on
immediately. I had to wait some hours; and when a later train finally
deposited me at the nearest station to Limmeridge House, it was past
ten, and the night was so dark that I could hardly see my way to the
pony-chaise which Mr. Fairlie had ordered to be in waiting for me.

The driver was evidently discomposed by the lateness of my arrival. He
was in that state of highly respectful sulkiness which is peculiar to
English servants. We drove away slowly through the darkness in perfect
silence. The roads were bad, and the dense obscurity of the night
increased the difficulty of getting over the ground quickly. It was,
by my watch, nearly an hour and a half from the time of our leaving the
station before I heard the sound of the sea in the distance, and the
crunch of our wheels on a smooth gravel drive. We had passed one gate
before entering the drive, and we passed another before we drew up at
the house. I was received by a solemn man-servant out