e
somewhat of a recluse. He was generally engaged in his rooms the whole
day, and seldom left them till the evening, and nobody, as yet, had
called upon him. Under these circumstances, Imogene was instructed
to open the matter to Mr. Waldershare when she presided over his
breakfast-table; and that gentleman said he would make inquiries about
the colonel at the Travellers' Club, where Waldershare passed a great
deal of his time. "If he be anybody," said Mr. Waldershare, "he is sure
in time to be known there, for he will be introduced as a visitor." At
present, however, it turned out that the "Travellers'" knew nothing of
Colonel Albert; and time went on, and Colonel Albert was not introduced
as a visitor there.

After a little while there was a change in the habits of the colonel.
One morning, about noon, a groom, extremely well appointed, and having
under his charge a couple of steeds of breed and beauty, called at
Warwick Street, and the colonel rode out, and was long absent, and after
that, every day, and generally at the same hour, mounted his horse.
Mr. Rodney was never wearied of catching a glimpse of his distinguished
lodger over the blinds of the ground-floor room, and of admiring the
colonel's commanding presence in his saddle, distinguished as his seat
was alike by its grace and vigour.

In the course of a little time, another incident connected with the
colonel occurred which attracted notice and excited interest. Towards
the evening a brougham, marked, but quietly, with a foreign coronet,
stopped frequently at Mr. Rodney's house, and a visitor to the colonel
appeared in the form of a middle-aged gentleman who never gave his name,
and evaded, it seemed with practised dexterity, every effort, however
adroit, to obtain it. The valet was tried on this head also, and replied
with simplicity that he did not know the gentleman's name, but he was
always called the Baron.

In the middle of June a packet arrived one day by the coach, from the
rector of Hurstley, addressed to Endymion, announcing his father's
dangerous illness, and requesting him instantly to repair home. Myra was
too much occupied to write even a line.

CHAPTER XXIX

It was strange that Myra did not write, were it only a line. It was so
unlike her. How often this occurred to Endymion during his wearisome and
anxious travel! When the coach reached Hurstley, he found Mr. Penruddock
waiting for him. Before he could inquire after his father, that