d, and said nothing.

"You had better go to that woman of Marmaduke's," continued Mr. Lind,
"and try whether she can persuade her brother to commute his interest in
the company, and go back to America, or to the devil. I will take care
that he gets good terms, even if I have to make them up out of my own
pocket. If the worst comes, _she_ must be persuaded to leave Marmaduke.
Offer her money. Women of that sort drive a hard bargain; but they have
their price."

"But, sir, consider my profession. How can I go to drive a bargain with
a woman of evil reputation?"

"Well, I must go myself, I suppose."

"Oh, no. I will go. Only I thought I would mention it."

"A clergyman can go anywhere. You are privileged. Come to breakfast in
the morning: we can talk over matters then."

CHAPTER XI

One morning the Rev. George Lind received a letter addressed in a
handwriting which he did not remember and never thenceforth forgot.
Within the envelope he found a dainty little bag made of blue satin,
secured by ribbons of the same material. This contained a note written
on scented paper, edged with gold, and decorated with a miniature
representation of a _pierrot_, sitting cross-legged, conning a book, on
the open pages of which appeared the letters L.V. The clergyman
recognized the monogram no more than the writing. But as it was
evidently from a lady, he felt a pleasant thrill of expectation as he
unfolded the paper.

"Laurel Grove West Kensington
"Wednesday
"Dear Mr. George

"I have made poor little Lucy believe that Kew is the most heavenly
place on earth to spend a May morning so Bob has had to promise to
row her down there to-morrow (Thursday) after breakfast and I shall
be at home alone from eleven to one this is very short notice I
know but opportunities are scarce and another might not present
itself for a month.

"Believe me Dear Mr. George

"Yours sincerely
Lalage Virtue."

The Rev. George became thoughtful, and absently put the note in a little
rack over the mantelpiece. Then, recollecting that a prying servant or
landlady might misinterpret it, he transferred it to his pocket. After
breakfast, having satisfied himself before the mirror that his dress was
faultless, and his expression saintly, he went out and travelled by rail