f this
property, fate had restored to the scene the penitent of the morning,
who, as he had too much reason to believe, was returned to this
neighbourhood, to do justice to Clara Mowbray, and who was not unlikely
to put the whole story of the marriage on its right footing. She,
however, might be got rid of; and it might still be possible to hurry
Miss Mowbray, by working on her fears, or through the agency of her
brother, into a union with him while he still preserved the title of
Lord Etherington. This, therefore, he resolved to secure, if effort or
if intrigue could carry the point; nor was it the least consideration,
that, should he succeed, he would obtain over Tyrrel, his successful
rival, such a triumph, as would be sufficient to embitter the
tranquillity of his whole life.

In a few minutes, his rapid and contriving invention had formed a plan
for securing the sole advantage which seemed to remain open for him; and
conscious that he had no time to lose, he entered immediately upon the
execution.

The bell summoned Solmes to his lordship's apartment, when the Earl, as
coolly as if he had hoped to dupe his experienced valet by such an
assertion, said, "You have brought me a packet designed for some man at
the Aultoun--let it be sent to him--Stay,--I will re-seal it first."

He accordingly re-sealed the packet, containing all the writings,
excepting the letter of advice, (which he had burnt,) and gave it to the
valet, with the caution, "I wish you would not make such blunders in
future."

"I beg your lordship's pardon--I will take better care again--thought it
was addressed to your lordship."

So answered Solmes, too knowing to give the least look of intelligence,
far less to remind the Earl that his own directions had occasioned the
mistake of which he complained.

"Solmes," continued the Earl, "you need not mention your blunder at the
post-office; it would only occasion tattle in this idle place--but be
sure that the gentleman has his letter.--And, Solmes, I see Mr. Mowbray
walk across--ask him to dine with me to-day at five. I have a headache,
and cannot face the clamour of the savages who feed at the public
table.--And let me see--make my compliments to Lady Penelope
Penfeather--I will certainly have the honour of waiting on her ladyship
this evening to tea, agreeably to her very boring invitation
received--write her a proper card, and word it your own way. Bespeak
dinner for two, and see you have some o