in, away from the noise of the taproom, and a clean bedchamber at the
top of the house. She began crying again at the sight of me, and said,
poor soul, truly enough, that it was dreadful to feel herself turned
out into the world as if she had committed some unpardonable fault,
when no blame could be laid at her door by anybody--not even by her
master, who had sent her away.

"Try to make the best of it, Fanny," I said. "Your mistress and I will
stand your friends, and will take care that your character shall not
suffer. Now, listen to me. I have very little time to spare, and I am
going to put a great trust in your hands. I wish you to take care of
these two letters. The one with the stamp on it you are to put into
the post when you reach London to-morrow. The other, directed to Mr.
Fairlie, you are to deliver to him yourself as soon as you get home.
Keep both the letters about you and give them up to no one. They are
of the last importance to your mistress's interests."

Fanny put the letters into the bosom of her dress. "There they shall
stop, miss," she said, "till I have done what you tell me."

"Mind you are at the station in good time to-morrow morning," I
continued. "And when you see the housekeeper at Limmeridge give her my
compliments, and say that you are in my service until Lady Glyde is
able to take you back. We may meet again sooner than you think. So
keep a good heart, and don't miss the seven o'clock train."

"Thank you, miss--thank you kindly. It gives one courage to hear your
voice again. Please to offer my duty to my lady, and say I left all
the things as tidy as I could in the time. Oh, dear! dear! who will
dress her for dinner to-day? It really breaks my heart, miss, to think
of it."

When I got back to the house I had only a quarter of an hour to spare
to put myself in order for dinner, and to say two words to Laura before
I went downstairs.

"The letters are in Fanny's hands," I whispered to her at the door.
"Do you mean to join us at dinner?"

"Oh, no, no--not for the world."

"Has anything happened? Has any one disturbed you?"

"Yes--just now--Sir Percival----"

"Did he come in?"

"No, he frightened me by a thump on the door outside. I said, 'Who's
there?' 'You know,' he answered. 'Will you alter your mind, and tell
me the rest? You shall! Sooner or later I'll wring it out of you. You
know where Anne Catherick is at this moment.' 'Indeed, indeed,' I said,
'I don'