when he looked at her, or spoke to her; but she
never warmed towards him. Rank, fortune,
good breeding, good looks, the respect of a
gentleman, and the devotion of a lover, were all
humbly placed at her feet, and, so far as
appearances went, were all offered in vain.

On the next day, the Tuesday, Sir Percival
went in the morning (taking one of the servants
with him as a guide) to Todd's Corner. His
inquiries, as I afterwards heard, led to no results.
On his return, he had an interview with Mr.
Fairlie; and in the afternoon he and Miss
Halcombe rode out together. Nothing else
happened worthy of record. The evening passed
as usual. There was no change in Sir Percival
and no change in Miss Fairlie.

The Wednesday's post brought with it an
event—the reply from Mrs. Catherick. I took a
copy of the document, which I have preserved,
and which I may as well present in this place.
It ran as follows:

"MADAM,—I beg to acknowledge the receipt
of your letter, inquiring whether my daughter,
Anne, was placed under medical superintendence
with my knowledge and approval, and whether
the share taken in the matter by Sir Percival
Glyde was such as to merit the expression of
my gratitude towards that gentleman. Be
pleased to accept my answer in the affirmative
to both those questions, and believe me to
remain, your obedient servant,

"JANE ANNE CATHERICK."

Short, sharp, and to the point: in form,
rather a business-like letter for a woman to
write; in substance, as plain a confirmation as
could be desired of Sir Percival Glyde's
statement. This was my opinion, and with certain
minor reservations, Miss Halcombe's opinion
also. Sir Percival, when the letter was shown
to him, did not appear to be struck by the
sharp, short tone of it. He told us that Mrs.
Catherick was a woman of few words, a clear-
headed, straightforward, unimaginative person,
who wrote briefly and plainly, just as she spoke.

The next duty to be accomplished, now that
the answer had been received, was to acquaint
Miss Fairlie with Sir Percival's explanation.
Miss Halcombe had undertaken to do this, and
had left the room to go to her sister, when she
suddenly returned again, and sat down by the
easy-chair in which I was reading the
newspaper. Sir Percival had gone out a minute
before, to look at the stables, and no one was in
the room but ourselves.

"I suppose we have really and truly done all
we can?" she said, turning and twisting Mrs.
Catherick' s letter in her hand.

"If we are friends of Sir Percival's, who
know him and trust him, we have done all, and
more than all, that is necessary," I answered, a
little annoyed by this return of her hesitation.
"But if we are enemies who suspect him——"

"That alternative is not even to be thought
of," she interposed. "We are Sir Percival's
friends; and, if generosity and forbearance can
add to our regard for him, we ought to be Sir
Percival's admirers as well. You know that he
saw Mr. Fairlie yesterday, and that he
afterwards went out with me?"

"Yes. I saw you riding away together."

"We began the ride by talking about Anne
Catherick, and about the singular manner in
which Mr. Hartright met with her. But we
soon dropped that subject; and Sir Percival
spoke next, in the most unselfish terms, of his
engagement with Laura. He said he had
observed that she was out of spirits, and he was
willing, if not informed to the contrary, to
attribute to that cause the alteration in her manner
towards him during his present visit. If,
however, there was any other more serious reason
for the change, he would entreat that no
constraint might be placed on her inclinations either
by Mr. Fairlie or by me. All he asked, in that
case, was that she would recal to mind, for the
last time, what the circumstances were under
which the engagement between them was made,
and what his conduct had been from the beginning
of the courtship to the present time. If,
after due reflection on those two subjects, she
seriously desired that he should withdraw his
pretensions to the honour of becoming her
husband—and if she would tell him so plainly, with
her own lips—he would sacrifice himself by
leaving her perfectly free to withdraw from the
engagement.

"No man could say more than that, Miss
Halcombe. As to my experience, few men in
his situation would have said as much."

She paused after I had spoken those words,
and looked at me with a singular expression of
perplexity and distress.

"I accuse nobody and I suspect nothing,"
she broke out, abruptly. "But I cannot and
will not accept the responsibility of persuading
Laura to this marriage."

"That is exactly the course which Sir Percival
Glyde has himself requested you to take," I
replied, in astonishment. "He has begged you
not to force her inclinations."

"And he indirectly obliges me to force them,
if I give her his message."

"How can that possibly be?"

"Consult your own knowledge of Laura, Mr.
Giimore. If I tell her to reflect on the
circumstances of her engagement, I at once appeal to
two of the strongest feelings in her nature—to
her love for her father's memory, and to her
strict regard for truth. You know that she
never broke a promise in her life; you know
that she entered on this engagement at the
beginning of her father's fatal illness, and that he
spoke hopefully and happily of her marriage to
Sir Percival Glyde on his death-bed."

I own that I was a little shocked at this view
of the case.

"Surely," I said, "you don't mean to infer
that when Sir Percival spoke to you yesterday,
he speculated on such a result as you have just
mentioned?"

Her frank, fearless face answered for her
before she spoke.