se only, and the Jenkins--Sabina Meldreth and the
doctor perhaps beside, but no one else. She set forth at an hour which
would enable her to reach the house when Hubert was likely to be up--at
least, if he were able to leave his bed. She did not know what she was
going to say to him--what line she was about to take. She only knew that
she could not bear to be away from him any longer, and that love and
forgiveness were the two thoughts uppermost in her mind.

She was not aware that her father had considered it unfit for her to go
alone to Russell Square. He had followed her all the way from
Clerkenwell, and was in the square immediately behind herself. When she
mounted the steps and rang the bell, he crossed the road and walked
along the pavement by the gardens in the middle of the square. Here he
fancied that he should be unobserved. He saw the door opened; he saw
Cynthia making her inquiries of the servant. Then she went in, and the
door was shut.

He waited for some time. Presently a man, whom he knew to be the
faithful Jenkins, appeared on the steps of the house and looked about
him. Then he crossed the road and advanced to Westwood, who was leaning
against the railings.

"Mr. Reuben Dare, I think?" he said, touching his hair respectfully.
Westwood stared at the sound of that name. "Miss West and Mr. Lepel
wants to know if you will kindly come up-stairs. They have a word or two
to say, and they hope that you will not fail to come."

Westwood smiled to himself--a rather peculiar smile.

"All right," he said; "if they want me to come, I'll come. But I think
they had both better have let me stay away."

Nevertheless he followed Jenkins to the house.

CHAPTER XLIX.

The door had been opened to Cynthia by a strange servant. She asked if
Mr. Lepel was at home--a conventionalism of which she immediately
repented. Was he well enough to see anybody, at least? she asked.

The girl did not know, but asked her to walk inside. Mr. Lepel was
better; he was dressed every day and sat in the drawing-room; but he had
not seen any visitors as yet. He was in the drawing-room now, she
thought, and he was alone.

"I will go up," said Cynthia decidedly. "You need not announce me. I
will go myself; he knows me very well."

The girl fell back doubtfully; but Cynthia's tone was so resolute, her
air so assured, that there was nothing for it but to give way. Besides
Mrs. Vane was out, and nobody had said what was to be don