She went back thoughtfully to her chair, and sat down again in silence.
Mr. Clare made for the door before any formal leave-taking could pass
between them. "Deep!" he thought to himself, as he looked back at her
before he went out; "only eighteen; and too deep for my sounding!"

In the hall he found Norah, waiting anxiously to hear what had happened.

"Is it all over?" she asked. "Does Frank go to China?"

"Be careful how you manage that sister of yours," said Mr. Clare,
without noticing the question. "She has one great misfortune to contend
with: she's not made for the ordinary jog-trot of a woman's life. I
don't say I can see straight to the end of the good or evil in her--I
only warn you, her future will be no common one."

An hour later, Mr. Pendril left the house; and, by that night's post,
Miss Garth dispatched a letter to her sister in London.

THE END OF THE FIRST SCENE.

BETWEEN THE SCENES.

PROGRESS OF THE STORY THROUGH THE POST.

I.

_From Norah Vanstone to Mr. Pendril._

"Westmoreland House, Kensington,

"August 14th, 1846.

"DEAR MR. PENDRIL--The date of this letter will show you that the last
of many hard partings is over. We have left Combe-Raven; we have said
farewell to home.

"I have been thinking seriously of what you said to me on Wednesday,
before you went back to town. I entirely agree with you that Miss Garth
is more shaken by all she has gone through for our sakes than she is
herself willing to admit; and that it is my duty, for the future, to
spare her all the anxiety that I can on the subject of my sister and
myself. This is very little to do for our dearest friend, for our second
mother. Such as it is, I will do it with all my heart.

"But, forgive me for saying that I am as far as ever from agreeing with
you about Magdalen. I am so sensible, in our helpless position, of the
importance of your assistance; so anxious to be worthy of the interest
of my father's trusted adviser and oldest friend, that I feel really
and truly disappointed with myself for differing with you--and yet I do
differ. Magdalen is very strange, very unaccountable, to those who don't
know her intimately. I can understand that she has innocently misled
you; and that she has presented herself, perhaps, under her least
favorable aspect. But that the clew to her language and her conduct on
Wednesday last is to be found in such a feeling toward the man who has
ruined us, as the feeling at which you h