t thirsting to hear any particulars of the news which had spread like
wildfire from Vandon throughout the whole village the previous
afternoon, and which was already miraculously flying from house to house
in Slumberleigh this morning, as things discreditable do fly among a
Christian population, which perhaps "thinks no evil," but repeats it
nevertheless.

There was not a servant in Dare's modest establishment who was not on
the lookout for him on his return. The gardener happened to be tying up
a plant near the front door; the house-maids were watching unobserved
from an upper casement; the portly form of Mrs. Smith, the house-keeper,
was seen to glide from one of the unused bedroom windows; the butler
must have been waiting in the hall, so prompt was his appearance when
the dog-cart drew up before the door.

Another pair of keen black eyes was watching too, peering out through
the chinks between the lowered Venetian blinds in the drawing-room; was
observing Dare intently as he got out, and then resting anxiously on his
companion. Then the owner of the eyes slipped away from the window, and
went back noiselessly to the fire.

Dare ordered the dog-cart to remain at the door, flung down his hat on
the hall-table, and, turning to the servant who was busying himself in
folding his coat, said, sharply, "Where is the--the person who arrived
here yesterday?"

The man replied that "she" was in the drawing-room. The drawing-room
opened into the hall. Dare led the way, suppressed fury in his face,
looking back to see whether Mr. Alwynn was following him. The two men
went in together and shut the door.

The enemy was intrenched and prepared for action.

Mrs. Dare, as we must perforce call her for lack of any other
designation rather than for any right of hers to the title, was seated
on a yellow brocade ottoman, drawn up beside a roaring fire, her two
smart little feet resting on the edge of the low brass fender, and a
small work-table at her side, on which an elaborate medley of silks and
wools was displayed. Her attitude was that of a person at home,
aggressively at home. She was in the act of threading a needle when Dare
and Mr. Alwynn came in, and she put down her work at once, carefully
replacing the needle in safety, as she rose to receive them, and held
out her hand, with a manner the assurance of which, if both men had not
been too much frightened to notice it, was a little overdone.

Dare disregarded her gesture