, and handed it at once to the
Doctor.

The golden-haired one saw it all without betraying herself by any
outward confusion. She had probably had some experience in such matters,
and felt tolerably certain of being able, at the worst, to manage the
old gentleman in the gold spectacles. But she took an early opportunity
of secretly conveying her contempt for the traitress Dulcie, who
continued to meet her angry glances with the blandest unconsciousness.

Dr. Grimstone examined the cocked-hat through his double eyeglasses,
with a heavy thunder-cloud gathering on his brows. When he had mastered
it thoroughly, he bent forward and glared indignantly past his wife and
daughter for at least half a minute into the pew where Mr. Bultitude was
cowering, until he felt that he was coming all to pieces under the
piercing gaze.

The service passed all too quickly after that. Paul sat down and stood
up almost unconsciously with the rest; but for the first time in his
life he could have wished the sermon many times longer.

The horror of his position quite petrified him. After all his prudent
resolutions to keep out of mischief and to win the regard and confidence
of his gaoler by his good conduct, like the innocent convict in a
melodrama, this came as nothing less than a catastrophe. He walked home
in a truly dismal state of limp terror.

Fortunately for him none of the others seemed to have noticed his
misfortune, and Jolland made no further advances. But even the weather
tended to increase his depression, for it was a bleak, cheerless day,
with a bitter and searching wind sweeping the gritty roads where
yesterday's rain was turned to black ice in the ruts, and the sun shone
with a dull coppery glitter that had no warmth or geniality about it.

The nearer they came to Crichton House the more abjectly miserable
became Mr. Bultitude's state of mind. It was as much as he could do to
crawl up the steps to the front door, and his knees positively clapped
together when the Doctor, who had driven home, met them in the hall and
said in a still grave voice, "Bultitude, when you have taken off your
coat, I want you in the study."

He was as long about taking off his coat as he dared, but at last he
went trembling into the study, which he found empty. He remembered the
room well, with its ebony-framed etchings on the walls, bookcases and
blue china over the draped mantelpiece, even to a large case of
elaborately carved Indian chessmen i