em.

"So you have come at last!" said Mrs. Askerton. "Till I got your
message I thought there was to be some dreadful misfortune."

"What misfortune?"

"Something dreadful! One often anticipates something very bad without
exactly knowing what. At least, I do. I am always expecting a
catastrophe;--when I am alone that is;--and then I am so often
alone."

"That simply means low spirits, I suppose?"

"It's more than that, my dear."

"Not much more, I take it."

"Once when we were in India we lived close to the powder magazine,
and we were always expecting to be blown up. You never lived near a
powder magazine."

"No, never;--unless there's one at Belton. But I should have thought
that was exciting."

"And then there was the gentleman who always had the sword hanging
over him by the horse's hair."

"What do you mean, Mrs. Askerton?"

"Don't look so innocent, Clara. You know what I mean. What were the
results at last of your cousin's diligence as a detective officer?"

"Mrs. Askerton, you wrong my cousin greatly. He never once mentioned
your name while he was with us. He did not make a single allusion to
you, or to Colonel Askerton, or to the cottage."

"He did not?"

"Never once."

"Then I beg his pardon. But not the less has he been busy making
inquiries."

"But why should you say that there is a powder magazine, or a sword
hanging over your head?"

"Ah, why?"

Here was the subject ready opened to her hand, and yet Clara did not
know how to go on with it. It seemed to her now that it would have
been easier for her to commence it, if Mrs. Askerton had made no
commencement herself. As it was, she knew not how to introduce the
subject of Captain Aylmer's letter, and was almost inclined to wait,
thinking that Mrs. Askerton might tell her own story without any such
introduction. But nothing of the kind was forthcoming. Mrs. Askerton
began to talk of the frost, and then went on to abuse Ireland,
complaining of the hardship her husband endured in being forced to go
thither in winter to look after his tenants.

"What did you mean," said Clara, at last, "by the sword hanging over
your head?"

"I think I told you what I meant pretty plainly. If you did not
understand me I cannot tell you more plainly."

"It is odd that you should say so much, and not wish to say more."

"Ah!--you are making your inquiries now."

"In my place would not you do so too? How can I help it when you
talked of a sword? Of c