r you."

"But I told you I knew nothing about her: who she is, or what she is, or
what she wants. I really do not know."

Well, so far that was true. But all the while a sick fear lay on his
heart that he did know; or, rather, that he was destined to know very
shortly.

"When I told you her hair was like threads of fine, pale gold, you
seemed to start, Philip, as if you knew some girl or woman with such
hair, or had known her."

"I daresay I have known a score of women with such hair. My dear little
sister who died, for instance."

"Do not attempt to evade the subject," was the haughty reprimand. "If--"

Mrs. Hamlyn's sharp speech was interrupted by the entrance of Japhet,
bringing in the morning letters. Only one letter, however, for they were
not as numerous in those days as they are in these.

"It seems to be important, ma'am," Japhet remarked, with the privilege
of an old servant, as he handed it to his mistress. She saw it was from
Leet Hall, in Mrs. Carradyne's handwriting, and bore the words: "In
haste," above the address.

Tearing it open, Eliza Hamlyn read the short, sad news it contained.
Captain Monk had been taken suddenly ill with inward inflammation. Mr.
Speck feared the worst, and the Captain had asked for Eliza. Would she
come down at once?

"Oh, Philip, I must not lose a minute," she exclaimed, passing the
letter to him, and forgetting the pale gold hair and its owner. "Do you
know anything about the Worcestershire trains?"

"No," he answered. "The better plan will be to get to the station as
soon as possible, and then you will be ready for the first train that
starts."

"Will you go down with me, Philip?"

"I cannot. I will take you to the station."

"Why can't you?"

"Because I cannot just now leave London. My dear, you may believe me,
for it is the truth. I _cannot do so_. I wish I could."

And she saw it was true: for his tone was so earnest as to tell of pain.

Making what haste she could, kissing her boy a hundred times, and
recommending him to the special care of his nurse and of his father
during her absence, she drove with her husband to the station, and was
just in time for a train. Mr. Hamlyn watched it steam out of the
station, and then looked up at the clock.

"I suppose it's not too early to see him," he muttered. "I'll chance it,
at any rate. Hope he will be less suffering than he was yesterday, and
less crusty, too."

Dismissing his carriage, for he felt more incl