rary," said Sir Patrick.
"Forget nothing, my dear child, no matter how trifling it may be.
Trifles are precious to us, and minutes are precious to us, now."

Blanche followed her instructions to the letter, her uncle listening
with the closest attention. When she had completed her narrative,
Sir Patrick suggested leaving the summer-house. "I have ordered your
chaise," he said; "and I can tell you what I propose doing on our way to
the stable-yard."

"Let me drive you, uncle!"

"Forgive me, my dear, for saying No to that. Your step-mother's
suspicions are very easily excited--and you had better not be seen with
me if my inquiries take me to the Craig Fernie inn. I promise, if you
will remain here, to tell you every thing when I come back. Join the
others in any plan they have for the afternoon--and you will prevent my
absence from exciting any thing more than a passing remark. You will do
as I tell you? That's a good girl! Now you shall hear how I propose to
search for this poor lady, and how your little story has helped me."

He paused, considering with himself whether he should begin by telling
Blanche of his consultation with Geoffrey. Once more, he decided that
question in the negative. Better to still defer taking her into his
confidence until he had performed the errand of investigation on which
he was now setting forth.

"What you have told me, Blanche, divides itself, in my mind, into two
heads," began Sir Patrick. "There is what happened in the library before
your own eyes; and there is what Miss Silvester told you had happened at
the inn. As to the event in the library (in the first place), it is too
late now to inquire whether that fainting-fit was the result, as you
say, of mere exhaustion--or whether it was the result of something that
occurred while you were out of the room."

"What could have happened while I was out of the room?"

"I know no more than you do, my dear. It is simply one of the
possibilities in the case, and, as such, I notice it. To get on to what
practically concerns us; if Miss Silvester is in delicate health it is
impossible that she could get, unassisted, to any great distance from
Windygates. She may have taken refuge in one of the cottages in our
immediate neighborhood. Or she may have met with some passing vehicle
from one of the farms on its way to the station, and may have asked the
person driving to give her a seat in it. Or she may have walked as far
as she can, and may h