n on account of his business in
town; today he chose it because he had to evade arrest on a charge of
homicide. So comforted was he by the news from Sibyl, that he could
reflect on this joke of destiny, and grimly smile at it.

At the end of his journey he betook himself to an hotel, and
immediately sent a message to Sibyl. Before her arrival he had
swallowed meat and drink. He waited for her in a private room, which
looked seaward. The sight of the blue Channel, the smell of salt
breezes, made his heart ache. He was standing at the window, watching a
steamer that had just left port, when Sibyl entered; he turned and
looked at her in silence.

'What are these mysterious movements?' she asked, coming forward with a
smile. 'Why did you alter your mind yesterday?'

'I wasn't well.'

He could say nothing more, yet. Sibyl's face was so tranquil, and she
seemed so glad to rejoin him, that his tongue refused to utter any
alarming word; and the more he searched her countenance, the more
detestable did it seem that he should insult her by the semblance of a
doubt.

'Not well? Indeed, you look dreadfully out of sorts. How long had I
been gone when you got home again?'

'An hour or two. But tell me first about your mother. She died before
you came?'

'Very soon after they sent the telegram.'

Gravely, but with no affectation of distress, she related the
circumstances; making known, finally, that Mrs. Larkfield had died
intestate.

'You are quite sure of that?' asked Hugh, with an eagerness which
surprised her.

'Quite. Almost with her last breath she talked about it, and said that
she _must_ make her will. And she had spoken of it several times
lately. The people there knew all about her affairs. She kept putting
it off--and as likely as not she wished the money to be mine, after
all. I am sure she must have felt that she owed me something.'

Carnaby experienced a profound relief. Sibyl was now provided for,
whatever turn his affairs might take. She had seated herself by the
window, and, with her gloved hands crossed upon her lap, was gazing
absently towards the sea. How great must be _her_ relief! thought Hugh.
And still he looked at her smooth, pure features; at her placid eyes,
in which, after all, he seemed to detect a little natural sadness; and
the accusation in his mind assumed so grotesque an incredibility that
he asked himself how he should dare to hint at it.

'Sibyl----'

'Isn't there something you ha