had heard, he would never believe her, that the excitement would make
him ill; there would be a family quarrel, and the whole thing would be
productive of no good result at all. If we get more evidence, or if one
of the guilty parties would confess, why, then it would be a different
matter."

"I shall not mind seeing uncle Richard now," said Enid softly.

"But you will not go back to Beechfield?" said Mr. Evandale.

"No, indeed; she'll stay here," Miss Vane replied for her. "She'll stay
here until she is married; and I hope that that day may not be far off."

"I hope not," said Maurice fervently. "Do you think that I may speak to
the General to-day?"

"I should think so. But what about Hubert Lepel, Enid?"

Enid flushed crimson.

"If there is one thing more than another about which the General is
particular, it is the keeping of a promise," continued Miss Vane. "He
may say that he will hold you to your word."

"He cannot," Enid answered, with lowered eyelids. "For, if what I have
been told is true, Hubert has broken his word to me--and so I am free."

"She must be free; she did not love him," said Maurice Evandale
conclusively, as if that statement settled the question.

"Ah, well, if love were all," Miss Vane began, but the opening of the
door interrupted her. "What is it, Hodges? Another telegram? Is it the
General again, I wonder?"

She tore open the brown envelope with more anxiety than she liked to
show; her eyebrows went up, and her mouth compressed itself as she read
the words--first to herself, and then to Enid and the Rector. The
message was again from the General, and ran as follows--

"Hope Enid is safe. Cannot come myself because of
carriage-accident. Dick seriously injured; but doctor gives hope."

"Oh, poor little Dick!" said Enid. "And I away from him!"

Miss Vane glanced at the Rector, and read in his eyes what was in her
own mind--"If Dick should die, there would be no further perplexity."
Then both dropped their eyes guiltily, and hoped that Enid--dear,
innocent, loving Enid!--had not guessed what they were thinking.

"At any rate," said Miss Vane, after a little pause, "you can do nothing
now; and it is just as well that we have all resolved to hold our
tongues."

And then she went away to write some letters; and Enid was left alone
with Maurice Evandale.

"My darling," said her lover, "are you sure that you are content and
happy now?"

"Quite sure, Maurice--except tha