present during the sojourn of
Sir Percival Glyde in Cumberland, and was personally concerned in one
important result of his short residence under Mr. Fairlie's roof. It
is my duty, therefore, to add these new links to the chain of events,
and to take up the chain itself at the point where, for the present
only Mr. Hartright has dropped it.

I arrived at Limmeridge House on Friday the second of November.

My object was to remain at Mr. Fairlie's until the arrival of Sir
Percival Glyde. If that event led to the appointment of any given day
for Sir Percival's union with Miss Fairlie, I was to take the necessary
instructions back with me to London, and to occupy myself in drawing
the lady's marriage-settlement.

On the Friday I was not favoured by Mr. Fairlie with an interview. He
had been, or had fancied himself to be, an invalid for years past, and
he was not well enough to receive me. Miss Halcombe was the first
member of the family whom I saw. She met me at the house door, and
introduced me to Mr. Hartright, who had been staying at Limmeridge for
some time past.

I did not see Miss Fairlie until later in the day, at dinner-time. She
was not looking well, and I was sorry to observe it. She is a sweet
lovable girl, as amiable and attentive to every one about her as her
excellent mother used to be--though, personally speaking, she takes
after her father. Mrs. Fairlie had dark eyes and hair, and her elder
daughter, Miss Halcombe, strongly reminds me of her. Miss Fairlie
played to us in the evening--not so well as usual, I thought. We had a
rubber at whist, a mere profanation, so far as play was concerned, of
that noble game. I had been favourably impressed by Mr. Hartright on
our first introduction to one another, but I soon discovered that he
was not free from the social failings incidental to his age. There are
three things that none of the young men of the present generation can
do. They can't sit over their wine, they can't play at whist, and they
can't pay a lady a compliment. Mr. Hartright was no exception to the
general rule. Otherwise, even in those early days and on that short
acquaintance, he struck me as being a modest and gentlemanlike young
man.

So the Friday passed. I say nothing about the more serious matters
which engaged my attention on that day--the anonymous letter to Miss
Fairlie, the measures I thought it right to adopt when the matter was
mentioned to me, and the conviction I ent