be any obvious trace of insanity about her."

"Well," she exclaimed, "we know to foretell future events is not now one
of the privileges accorded to mortals. I will place my assurance in the
justice of God's goodness and providence, and not in the delusions of
a poor maniac, or, perhaps, of an impostor. What course do you propose
taking now?"

"I have not yet determined, madam. I think I will see this old Dunphy
again. He told me that he certainly suspected your brother-in-law, but
assured me that he had no specific grounds for his suspicions--beyond
the simple fact, that Sir Thomas would be the principal gainer by the
child's removal. At all events, I shall see him once more to-morrow."

"What stay will you make in town?"

"I cannot at the present moment say, my lady. I have other matters,
of which your ladyship is aware, to look after. My own rights must be
vindicated; and I dare say you will not regret to hear that everything
is in a proper train. We want only one link of the chain. An important
document is wanting; but I think it will soon be in our hands. Who
knows," he added, smiling, "but your ladyship and I may ere long be
able to congratulate each other upon our mutual success? And now, madam,
permit me to take my leave. I am not without hope on your account; but
of this you may rest assured, that my most strenuous exertions shall be
devoted to the object nearest your heart."

"Alas," she replied, as she stood up, "it is neither title nor wealth
that I covet. Give me my child--restore me my child--and I shall be
happy. That is the simple ambition of his mother's heart. I wish Sir
Thomas to understand that I shall allow him to enjoy both title and
estates during his life, if, knowing where my child is, he will restore
him to my heart. I will bind, myself by the most solemn forms and
engagements to this. Perhaps that might satisfy him."

They then shook hands and separated, the stranger involuntarily
influenced by the confident predictions of Ginty Cooper, although he was
really afraid to say so; whilst Lady Gourlay felt her heart at one time
elevated by the dawn of hope that had arisen, and again depressed by the
darkness which hung over the fate of her son.

His next visit was to his attorney, Birney, who had been a day or two in
town, and whom he found in his office in Gloucester street.

"Well, Mr. Birney," he inquired, "what advance are you making?"

"Why," replied Birney, "the state of our case is