o do with Butler and
Horse Shoe. They must have been seen by Curry at Mrs. Dimock's, and old
Tony knows the major very well, and has told his name. Besides, do you
know, sister, I think Curry is a spy? Else, why should he be left at
Mrs. Dimock's always? There was room enough here for both of Mr.
Tyrrel's servants. I have a thought that I will reconnoitre: I will ride
over to the Blue Ball, and see what I can learn."

"Do, my good brother," replied Mildred, "and in the meantime I must go
to my father, who has something disagreeable to tell me--so I
fear--concerning that busy plotter who has just left us. My spirits grow
heavy at the thought of it. Ah, Henry, if I could but speak out, and
unpack my heart, what a load would I throw off! How does it grieve me to
have a secret that I dare not tell my dear father! Thank heaven,
brother, your heart and mine have not yet had a secret that they could
not whisper to each other!"

"Give care the whip, sister," said Henry, like a young gallant, "it
belongs to the bat family and should not fly in day-time. Farewell for
the next two hours!" and saying these words the sprightly youth kissed
his hand, and, with an alert step, left the room.

Mildred now retired to prepare for the interview with her father.

CHAPTER XI.

A SCENE BETWEEN A FATHER AND DAUGHTER.

When Mildred entered the library Lindsay was already there. He stood
before one of the ranges of book shelves, and held a volume in his hand
which, for a moment after his daughter's entrance, seemed to engross his
attention. Mildred was sufficiently astute to perceive that by this
device he struggled to compose his mind for an interview of which she
more than guessed the import. She was of a constitution not easily to be
driven from her self-possession; but the consciousness of her father's
embarrassment, and some perplexity in her own feelings at this moment,
produced by a sense of the difficult part she had to perform, slightly
discomposed her; there was something like alarm in her step, and also in
the expression of her features, as she almost stealthily seated herself
in one of the large lounging chairs. For a moment she unconsciously
employed herself in stripping a little flower that she held in her hand
of its leaves, and looked silently upon the floor; at length, in a low
accent, she said, "Father, I am here at your bidding." Lindsay turned
quickly round, and, throwing down the volume he had been perusing,
a