en out, to while away an anxious hour in the society
of his friends at De Walden Hall. He returned a little sooner than was
expected. His family and Miss Keeldar were assembled in the oak parlour.
Addressing the latter, he requested her to step with him into another
room. He wished to have with her a "_strictly_ private interview."

She rose, asking no questions and professing no surprise.

"Very well, sir," she said, in the tone of a determined person who is
informed that the dentist is come to extract that large double tooth of
his, from which he has suffered such a purgatory this month past. She
left her sewing and her thimble in the window-seat, and followed her
uncle where he led.

Shut into the drawing-room, the pair took seats, each in an arm-chair,
placed opposite, a few yards between them.

"I have been to De Walden Hall," said Mr. Sympson. He paused. Miss
Keeldar's eyes were on the pretty white-and-green carpet. _That_
information required no response. She gave none.

"I have learned," he went on slowly--"I have learned a circumstance
which surprises me."

Resting her cheek on her forefinger, she waited to be told _what_
circumstance.

"It seems that Nunnely Priory is shut up--that the family are gone back
to their place in ----shire. It seems that the baronet--that the
baronet--that Sir Philip himself has accompanied his mother and
sisters."

"Indeed!" said Shirley.

"May I ask if you share the amazement with which I received this news?"

"No, sir."

"_Is_ it news to you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I mean--I mean," pursued Mr. Sympson, now fidgeting in his chair,
quitting his hitherto brief and tolerably clear phraseology, and
returning to his customary wordy, confused, irritable style--"I mean to
have a _thorough_ explanation. I will _not_ be put off. I--I--shall
_insist_ on being heard, and on--on having my own way. My questions
_must_ be answered. I will have clear, satisfactory replies. I am not to
be trifled with. (Silence.)

"It is a strange and an extraordinary thing--a very singular--a most odd
thing! I thought all was right, knew no other; and there--the family are
gone!"

"I suppose, sir, they had a right to go."

"_Sir Philip is gone!_" (with emphasis).

Shirley raised her brows. "_Bon voyage!_" said she.

"This will not do; this must be altered, ma'am."

He drew his chair forward; he pushed it back; he looked perfectly
incensed, and perfectly helpless.

"Come, come now, uncle," ex