n very kindly received by Mr. Bartram; but had been informed
by that gentleman that his cousin was not then in a condition to receive
visitors. Mr. Noel Vanstone had been suffering, for some years past,
from a wearing and obstinate malady; he had come to England expressly
to obtain the best medical advice, and he still felt the fatigue of
the journey so severely as to be confined to his bed. Under these
circumstances, Mr. Pendril had no alternative but to take his leave.
An interview with Mr. Noel Vanstone might have cleared up some of the
difficulties in connection with his father's instructions. As events had
turned out, there was no help for it but to wait for a few days more.

The days passed, the empty days of solitude and suspense. At last, a
third letter from the lawyer announced the long delayed conclusion of
the correspondence. The final answer had been received from Zurich,
and Mr. Pendril would personally communicate it at Combe-Raven on the
afternoon of the next day.

That next day was Wednesday, the twelfth of August. The weather had
changed in the night; and the sun rose watery through mist and cloud.
By noon the sky was overcast at all points; the temperature was sensibly
colder; and the rain poured down, straight and soft and steady, on the
thirsty earth. Toward three o'clock, Miss Garth and Norah entered the
morning-room, to await Mr. Pendril's arrival. They were joined shortly
afterward by Magdalen. In half an hour more the familiar fall of the
iron latch in the socket reached their ears from the fence beyond
the shrubbery. Mr. Pendril and Mr. Clare advanced into view along the
garden-path, walking arm-in-arm through the rain, sheltered by the same
umbrella. The lawyer bowed as they passed the windows; Mr. Clare walked
straight on, deep in his own thoughts--noticing nothing.

After a delay which seemed interminable; after a weary scraping of
wet feet on the hall mat; after a mysterious, muttered interchange of
question and answer outside the door, the two came in--Mr. Clare leading
the way. The old man walked straight up to the table, without any
preliminary greeting, and looked across it at the three women, with a
stern pity for them in his ragged, wrinkled face.

"Bad news," he said. "I am an enemy to all unnecessary suspense.
Plainness is kindness in such a case as this. I mean to be kind--and I
tell you plainly--bad news."

Mr. Pendril followed him. He shook hands, in silence, with Miss Garth