re calling mentioned a big society-scandal coming on in
the Law Courts in which this precious peer was desperately involved. The
relief with which I heard the news was unbounded considering all it meant
for me, but my joy was turned to bitter grief by the news that Archie
Jolliffe after lying unconscious for nearly a week had died of his
injury. I had contrived, during the days he lingered, to make secret
inquiries as to his condition, and so knew that what would have seemed my
heartless absence from his bedside had made no difference to him."

"Poor fellow," Gifford commented.

"It was unspeakably sad," Edith Morriston continued, "but it seemed like
fate, seeing how things rearranged themselves afterwards. Certainly if I
was to blame for his piteous end, I was to pay the penalty. For no sooner
was I out of one trouble than another was ready for me.

"After this long preface, I come to the most unpleasant episode of
Henshaw and his persecution.

"On the day I heard of poor Archie's death I had gone out for a walk
possessed by a great longing to be alone in my grief. On my way home by a
woodland path leading to the Hall grounds, I, to my great annoyance, came
upon Clement Henshaw. I can't say I was altogether surprised, for I had
caught a glimpse of some one very like him in the village a day or two
before. Of that I had thought little, merely taking care that the man did
not see me. But now there was no avoiding him, and I had more than a
suspicion that he had been lying in wait for me. At the risk of appearing
horribly ungrateful I made up my mind on the instant to try to pass him
with a bow, but need not say that was utterly futile. He stood directly
in my path, and raised his hat.

"'I am sorry to be the bearer of sad news, Miss Morriston,' he said.

"So he had found out my name, assuredly not by accident, and the fact
angered me, perhaps unreasonably.

"'I have heard of Mr. Jolliffe's death,' I replied coldly, 'if that is
what you have to tell me.'

"'I thought,' he rejoined, with assurance, 'it quite possible you might
not have heard so soon.'

"From his manner I began to see that the man was likely to become an
annoyance if he were not snubbed, but soon discovered that it was not so
easily done. I thanked him coldly enough, and tried to dismiss him, but
he insisted on walking with me. What could I do? He seemed determined to
force his company upon me and I could not run away. He tried to get out
of me ho