it, told me at what sacrifice
of herself her outward composure was maintained. My heart could take
her no closer to me, or I should have loved her then as I had never
loved her yet.

Mr. Gilmore was a great assistance to us. He was in high good-humour,
and he led the conversation with unflagging spirit. Miss Halcombe
seconded him resolutely, and I did all I could to follow her example.
The kind blue eyes, whose slightest changes of expression I had learnt
to interpret so well, looked at me appealingly when we first sat down
to table. Help my sister--the sweet anxious face seemed to say--help
my sister, and you will help me.

We got through the dinner, to all outward appearance at least, happily
enough. When the ladies had risen from table, and Mr. Gilmore and I
were left alone in the dining-room, a new interest presented itself to
occupy our attention, and to give me an opportunity of quieting myself
by a few minutes of needful and welcome silence. The servant who had
been despatched to trace Anne Catherick and Mrs. Clements returned with
his report, and was shown into the dining-room immediately.

"Well," said Mr. Gilmore, "what have you found out?"

"I have found out, sir," answered the man, "that both the women took
tickets at our station here for Carlisle."

"You went to Carlisle, of course, when you heard that?"

"I did, sir, but I am sorry to say I could find no further trace of
them."

"You inquired at the railway?"

"Yes, sir."

"And at the different inns?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you left the statement I wrote for you at the police station?"

"I did, sir."

"Well, my friend, you have done all you could, and I have done all I
could, and there the matter must rest till further notice. We have
played our trump cards, Mr. Hartright," continued the old gentleman
when the servant had withdrawn. "For the present, at least, the women
have outmanoeuvred us, and our only resource now is to wait till Sir
Percival Glyde comes here on Monday next. Won't you fill your glass
again? Good bottle of port, that--sound, substantial, old wine. I have
got better in my own cellar, though."

We returned to the drawing-room--the room in which the happiest
evenings of my life had been passed--the room which, after this last
night, I was never to see again. Its aspect was altered since the days
had shortened and the weather had grown cold. The glass doors on the
terrace side were closed, and hidden by thick curta