rder to her confused and
tumultuous thoughts. At length she sat down exhausted. She was
startled by a knock. Opening the door, there in a newly-furbished
suit, with clean linen, and a brown wig worn for the first time on his
hitherto shining head, stood Theophilus Clamp. He had even picked a
blossom from the geranium in the hall and was toying with it like a
bashful boy.

"A fine day, Ma'am!" said he, as he took a seat.

"Yes, very," she answered, mechanically, scarcely looking up.

"The young folks have gone out to ride, I suppose."

"Yes, Sir."--A pause, in which Mrs. Kinloch covered her face with her
handkerchief.

"You don't seem well, Ma'am. Shall I call Lucy?"

"Lucy is gone," she answered,--quickly adding, "gone to her
grandmother's."

"Well, that is singular. I've been today to look at my land above the
old lady's house, and she asked me to send word to Lucy to come up and
see her."

"To-day?"

"Yes, Ma'am; not two hours ago."

Mrs. Kinloch was rapidly revolving probabilities. What interest had
Lucy to interfere with her affairs? As for Mildred, she was not to be
thought of as prying into secrets; she was too innocent. Hugh was too
careless. Who more than this man Clamp was likely to have done or
procured the mischief? "Have you given her the message?"

"Of course not, Ma'am,--how could I?"

"Then you haven't sent Lucy away on any errand?"

"Certainly not, Madam," said the lawyer, beginning to wince under the
cross-examination. "Lucy's gone, you say; didn't she leave things all
right,--your papers, and--and so forth?"

"Papers? Lucy is not presumed to know that I _have_ any papers;
if any are missing, I'll warrant they are in the hands of some one who
knows at least enough to read them."

"She suspects me," thought the lawyer, "but can't have discovered that
hers are only copies; they're too well done." He then added aloud,
"Perhaps, Mrs. Kinloch, if you had honored me, your associate in the
administration of the estate, with your confidence touching the
private papers you speak of, I might have saved you some trouble in
keeping them."

"Very likely; but no one spoke of papers beside yourself," she
replied, with a trace of sarcasm in the tone which ill suited the
expression of her pallid face and drooping head.

"I'm sorry to see you looking so careworn, Mrs. Kinloch," said he,
with his blandest air. "I intended to bring up a topic more agreeable,
it is to be hoped, than runaway house-mai