etail that the man
whom she had seen on the Thursday morning apparently dead, whose actual
poisoning she thought she had witnessed, was reported on the Saturday
to have walked out of the cottage, carrying his things, if he had any,
and proposing to make his way to London in order to find out his old
nurse. "Make what you can out of that," she said. "For my own part, I
understand nothing."

In the letter which she wrote to Mr. Mountjoy she added a petition that
he would send her money to bring her home. This, she said, her mistress
she knew would willingly defray.

She posted these letters on Tuesday, and waited for the answers.

Mrs. Vimpany wrote back by return post.

"My dear Fanny," she said, "I have read your letter with the greatest
interest. I am not only afraid that some villainy is afloat, but I am
perfectly sure of it. One can only hope and pray that her ladyship may
be kept out of its influence. You will be pleased to hear that Mr.
Mountjoy is better. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to stand
the shock of violent emotion, I put Lady Harry's letter into his hands.
It was well that I had kept it from him, for he fell into such a
violence of grief and indignation that I thought he would have had a
serious relapse. 'Can any woman,' he cried, 'be justified in going back
to an utterly unworthy husband until he has proved a complete change?
What if she had received a thousand letters of penitence? Penitence
should be shown by acts, not words: she should have waited.' He wrote
her a letter, which he showed me. 'Is there,' he asked, 'anything in
the letter which could justly offend her?' I could find nothing. He
told her, but I fear too late, that she risks degradation--perhaps
worse, if there is anything worse--if she persists in returning to her
unworthy husband. If she refuses to be guided by his advice, on the
last occasion on which he would presume to offer any device, he begged
that she would not answer. Let her silence say--No. That was the
substance of his letter. Up to the present moment no answer has been
received from Lady Harry. Nor has he received so much as an
acknowledgment of the letter. What can be understood by this silence?
Clearly, refusal.

"You must return by way of Paris, though it is longer than by Basle and
Laon. Mr. Mountjoy, I know, will send you the money you want. He has
told me as much. 'I have done with Lady Harry,' he said. 'Her movements
no longer concern me, though I ca