"You don't say so, Mr. Hartright!  May I
hear it?"

"You have a claim to hear it. The chief
person in the adventure was a total stranger to
me, and may perhaps be a total stranger to you;
but she certainly mentioned the name of the
late Mrs. Fairlie in terms of the sincerest
gratitude and regard."

"Mentioned my mother's name! You
interest me indescribably. Pray go on."

I at once related the circumstances under
which I had met the woman in white, exactly
as they had occurred; and I repeated what she
had said to me about Mrs. Fairlie and
Limmeridge House, word for word.

Miss Halcombe's bright resolute eyes looked
eagerly into mine, from the beginning of the
narrative to the end. Her face expressed vivid
interest and astonishment, but nothing more.
She was evidently as far from knowing of any
clue to the mystery as I was myself.

"Are you quite sure of those words referring
to my mother?" she asked.

"Quite sure," I replied.  "Whoever she may
be, the woman was once at school in the village
of Limmeridge, was treated with especial kindness
by Mrs. Fairlie, and, in grateful
remembrance of that kindness, feels an affectionate
interest in all surviving members of the family.
She knew that Mrs. Fairlie and her husband
were both dead; and she spoke of Miss Fairlie
as if they had known each other when they were
children."

"You said, I think, that she denied belonging
to this place?"

"Yes, she told me she came from Hampshire."

"And you entirely failed to find out her
name?"

"Entirely."

"Very strange.  I think you were quite
justified, Mr. Hartright, in giving the poor creature
her liberty, for she seems to have done nothing
in your presence to show herself unfit to enjoy
it. But I wish you had been a little more
resolute about finding out her name.  We must
really clear up this mystery, in some way.  You
had better not speak of it yet to Mr. Fairlie,
or to my sister.  They are both of them, I am
certain, quite as ignorant of who the woman is,
and of what her past history in connexion with
us can be, as I am myself. But they are also,
in widely different ways, rather nervous and
sensitive; and you would only fidget one and
alarm the other to no purpose. As for myself,
I am all aflame with curiosity, and I devote my
whole energies to the business of discovery from
this moment. When my mother came here,
after her second marriage, she certainly
established the village school just as it exists at
the present time. But the old teachers are all
dead, or gone elsewhere; and no enlightenment is
to be hoped for from that quarter. The only
other alternative I can think of——"

At this point we were interrupted by the
entrance of the servant, with a message from Mr.
Fairlie, intimating that he would be glad to see
me, as soon as I had done breakfast.

"Wait in the hall," said Miss Halcombe,
answering the servant for me, in her quick, ready
way.  "Mr. Hartright will come out directly.
I was about to say," she went on, addressing
me again, "that my sister and I have a large
collection of my mother's letters, addressed to
my father and to her's.  In the absence of any
other means of getting information, I will pass
the morning in looking over my mother's
correspondence with Mr. Fairlie.  He was fond of
London, and was constantly away from his
country home; and she was accustomed, at such
times, to write and report to him how things
went on at Limmeridge.  Her letters are full
of references to the school in which she took so
strong an interest; and I think it more than
likely that I may have discovered something
when we meet again. The luncheon hour is
two, Mr. Hartright.  I shall have the pleasure
of introducing you to my sister by that time,
and we will occupy the afternoon in driving
round the neighbourhood and showing you all
our pet points of view. Till two o'clock, then,
farewell."

She nodded to me with the lively grace, the
delightful refinement of familiarity, which
characterised all that she did and all that she said;
and disappeared by a door at the lower end of
the room.  As soon as she had left me, I turned
my steps towards the hall, and followed the
servant on my way, for the first time, to the
presence of Mr. Fairlie.

VI.

MY conductor led me up-stairs into a passage
which took us back to the bedchamber in which
I had slept during the past night; and opening
the door next to it, begged me to look in.

"I have my master's orders to show you your
own sitting room, sir," said the man, "and to
inquire if you approve of the situation and the
light."

I must have been hard to please, indeed, if I
had not approved of the room, and of everything
about it. The bow-window looked out on the
same lovely view which I had admired, in the
morning, from my bedroom. The furniture was
the perfection of luxury and beauty; the table
in the centre was bright with gaily bound books,
elegant conveniences for writing, and beautiful
flowers; the second table, near the window, was
covered with all the necessary materials for
mounting water-colour drawings, and had a little
easel attached to it, which I could expand or
fold up at will; the walls were hung with gaily
tinted chintz; and the floor was spread with
Indian matting in maize-colour and red. It was
the prettiest and most luxurious little sitting-
room I had ever seen; and I admired it with the
warmest enthusiasm.

The solemn servant was far too highly trained
to betray the slightest satisfaction. He bowed
with icy deference when my terms of eulogy
were all exhausted, and silently opened the door
for me to go out into the passage again.

We turned a corner, and entered a long second
passage, ascended a short flight of stairs at the