both; Loft's face and gait was pronouncedly
funereal. Visitors, of course, there were none. The establishment seemed
to be in quarantine.

Jenny's letter was in her best style--concise, clear--and handsome.
Everything was to go on at Breysgate as though she herself were there.
Cartmell was given full control of finances--a power of attorney was to
follow from London. Chat was to stay till further orders. Nothing was to
be shut up, nobody to be dismissed. I was directed to take full charge
of the house and grounds, allotted ample funds for the expenses, and
intrusted with the care of all her correspondence. Urgent letters were
to be sent under cover to her bankers at Paris; there all communications
were to be addressed, thence all would come. Money for her own use was
to be deposited there also. Finally, the Committee was fully empowered
to proceed with the plans and preliminaries of the Institute; they were
to be credited with five thousand pounds for this purpose. I was to act
on her behalf and report progress to her from time to time. Whatever her
feelings were, her brain was active, busy, and efficient.

"It doesn't look as if she meant to give up Breysgate, anyhow," said
Cartmell.

"Neither does it look as if she meant to come back," said I.

That, again, was like Jenny. She did not mean to come back, but neither
did she mean to let go. She elaborately provided for a long absence, but
by careful implication negatived the idea that the absence was to be
permanent. Though she was not there, her presence was to be felt. Though
she was away, she would rule through her deputies--Chat, Cartmell, the
Institute Committee, myself. She forsook Catsford, but would remain a
power there.

With all this, not a word of what she herself meant to do or where she
meant to go--no explanation of the past or information about the future.
Not a word of Octon--not a word of marriage! The old signature held
still, "Jenny Driver." The silences of the letter were even more
remarkable than its contents. The whole effect was one of personal
isolation. That great local institution, Miss Driver of Breysgate, was
all to the fore. Jenny had withdrawn behind an impenetrable veil. Miss
Driver of Breysgate was benign, conciliatory, gracious, loyal to
Catsford. Jenny was enigmatic, unapologetic, defiant. Jenny slapped
while Miss Driver stroked. What would they make out of these
contradictory attitudes of the dual personality?

Cartmell put his