cy all in a confused mass together.

"Here's the bag, Miss Barbara. It had got among the folds of the rug."

Benjamin held it out to her, but she took no notice; she was unconscious
of all external things save one. That she beheld the real murderer of
Hallijohn, she entertained no manner of doubt. In every particular
he tallied with the description given by Richard; tall, dark, vain,
handsome, delicate hands, jewellery, and--Captain Thorn! Barbara's
cheeks grew white and her heart turned sick.

"The bag, Miss Barbara."

Away tore Barbara, leaving Benjamin and the bag in wonder. She had
caught sight of Mr. Wainwright, the surgeon, at a little distance, and
sped toward him.

"Mr. Wainwright," began she, forgetting ceremony in her agitation, "you
see that gentleman talking to Otway Bethel--who is he?"

Mr. Wainwright had to put his glasses across the bridge of his nose
before he could answer, for he was short-sighted. "That? Oh, it is a
Captain Thorn. He is visiting the Herberts, I believe."

"Where does he come from? Where does he live?" reiterated Barbara in her
eagerness.

"I don't know anything about him. I saw him this morning with young
Smith, and he told me he was a friend of the Herberts. You are not
looking well, Miss Barbara."

She made no answer. Captain Thorn and Mr. Bethel came walking down the
street, and the latter saluted her, but she was too much confused to
respond to it. Mr. Wainwright then wished her good day, and Barbara
walked slowly back. Mrs. Hare was appearing at the shop door.

"My dear, how long you are! Cannot the bag be found?"

"I went to speak to Mr. Wainwright," answered Barbara, mechanically
taking the bag from Benjamin and giving it to her mother, her whole
heart and eyes still absorbed with that one object moving away in the
distance.

"You look pale, child. Are you well?"

"Oh, yes, quite. Let us get our shopping over, mamma."

She moved on to their places at the counter as she spoke, eager to "get
it over" and be at home, that she might have time for thought. Mrs. Hare
wondered what had come to her; the pleased interest displayed in their
purchases previously was now gone, and she sat inattentive and absorbed.

"Now, my dear, it is only waiting for you to choose. Which of the two
silks will you have?"

"Either--any. Take which you like, mamma."

"Barbara, what _has_ come to you?"

"I believe I am tired," said Barbara, with a forced laugh, as she
compelled herself