rather be out on the
hillside of a dull, good-scenting day,--well mounted, of course,--and
hear the dogs as they rushed yelping through the cover."

"Yoics, yoics, yoics! I saw it all at Astley's, and they took a gate in
rare style. But, I say, what is that tower yonder, topping the trees?"

"That is Lyle Abbey,--Sir Arthur Lyle's place."

"Lyle,--Lyle. There was such a picture in the Exhibition last year of
two sisters, Maud, or Alice, or Bella Lyle, and another, by Watts. I
used to go every morning, before I went down to the office, to have a
look at them, and I never was quite certain which I was in love with."

"They are here! they are Sir Arthur's daughters."

"You don't say so! And do you know them, Tony?"

"As well as if they were my sisters."

"Ain't I in luck!" cried Skeffy, in exultation. "I'd have gone to
Tarnoff,--that's the place Holmes was named consul at,--and wrote back
word that it did n't exist, and that the geography fellows were only
hoaxing the office! just fancy, hoaxing the office! Hulloa!--what have
we here? A four-horse team, by all that's stunning."

"Mrs. Trafford's. Draw up at the side of the road till they pass,
Peter," said Tony, hurriedly. The servant on the box of the carriage
had, however, apparently announced Tony Butler's presence, for the
postilions slackened their pace, and came to a dead halt a few paces in
front of the car.

"My mistress, sir, would be glad to speak to you," said the servant,
approaching Tony.

"Is she alone, Coles?" asked he, as he descended from the car.

"Yes, sir."

Somewhat reassured by this, but at the same time not a little agitated,
Tony drew nigh the carriage. Mrs. Trafford was wrapped up in a large
fur mantle,--the day was a cold one,--and lay back without making any
movement to salute, except a slight bend of the head as he approached.

"I have to apologize for stopping you," said she, coldly; "but I had a
message to give you from Mr. Maitland, who left this a couple of days
ago."

"Is he gone,--gone for good?" asked Tony, not really knowing what he
said.

"I don't exactly know what 'for good' means," said she, smiling faintly;
"but I believe he has not any intention to return here. His message was
to say that, being much pressed for time, he had not an opportunity to
reply to your note."

"I don't think it required an answer," broke in Tony, sternly.

"Perhaps not as regarded you, but possibly it did as respected himself."

"I don