ress to begin.

Lady Lundie opened the proceedings with the regular formula of inquiry
which she had used with all the other servants,

"Do you know that Miss Silvester has left the house?"

The cook nodded her head affirmatively.

"Do you know at what time she left it?"

Another affirmative reply. The first which Lady Lundie had received to
that question yet. She eagerly went on to the next inquiry.

"Have you seen her since she left the house?"

A third affirmative reply.

"Where?"

Hester Dethridge wrote slowly on the slate, in singularly firm upright
characters for a woman in her position of life, these words:

"On the road that leads to the railway. Nigh to Mistress Chew's Farm."

"What did you want at Chew's Farm?"

Hester Dethridge wrote: "I wanted eggs for the kitchen, and a breath of
fresh air for myself."

"Did Miss Silvester see you?"

A negative shake of the head.

"Did she take the turning that leads to the railway?"

Another negative shake of the head.

"She went on, toward the moor?"

An affirmative reply.

"What did she do when she got to the moor?"

Hester Dethridge wrote: "She took the footpath which leads to Craig
Fernie."

Lady Lundie rose excitedly to her feet. There was but one place that a
stranger could go to at Craig Fernie. "The inn!" exclaimed her ladyship.
"She has gone to the inn!"

Hester Dethridge waited immovably. Lady Lundie put a last precautionary
question, in these words:

"Have you reported what you have seen to any body else?"

An affirmative reply. Lady Lundie had not bargained for that. Hester
Dethridge (she thought) must surely have misunderstood her.

"Do you mean that you have told somebody else what you have just told
me?"

Another affirmative reply.

"A person who questioned you, as I have done?"

A third affirmative reply.

"Who was it?"

Hester Dethridge wrote on her slate: "Miss Blanche."

Lady Lundie stepped back, staggered by the discovery that Blanche's
resolution to trace Anne Silvester was, to all appearance, as firmly
settled as her own. Her step-daughter was keeping her own counsel, and
acting on her own responsibility--her step-daughter might be an awkward
obstacle in the way. The manner in which Anne had left the house had
mortally offended Lady Lundie. An inveterately vindictive woman, she had
resolved to discover whatever compromising elements might exist in the
governess's secret, and to make them public property (from