There was a painful expression of anxiety in her
face, which made me fear that her mind, on first
recovering itself, was not at ease. But she was
certainly strengthening more rapidly than I could
have ventured to anticipate; and she was able
to send kind messages to Lady Glyde, saying
that she was fast getting well, and entreating
her ladyship not to exert herself again too soon.
I left her in charge of Mrs. Rubelle, who was
still as quietly independent of every one else in
the house as ever. When I knocked at Lady
Glyde's door, before going away, I was told that
she was still sadly weak and depressed; my
informant being the Countess, who was then keeping
her company in her room. Sir Percival and
the Count were walking on the road to the
lodge, as I was driven by in the chaise. I
bowed to them, and quitted the house, with not
a living soul left in the servants' offices but
Margaret Porcher.

Every one must feel, what I have felt myself
since that time, that these circumstances
were more than unusual— they were almost
suspicious.  Let me, however, say again, that it
was impossible for me, in my dependent position,
to act otherwise than I did.

The result of my errand at Torquay was
exactly what I had foreseen. No such lodgings
as I was instructed to take could be found in the
whole place; and the terms I was permitted to
give were much too low for the purpose, even if
I had been able to discover what I wanted. I
returned to Blackwater Park on the third day;
and informed Sir Percival, who met me at the
door, that my journey had been taken in vain.
He seemed too much occupied with some other
subject to care about the failure of my errand,
and his first words informed me that even in the
short time of my absence, another remarkable
change had taken place in the house.

The Count and Countess Fosco had left
Blackwater Park for their new residence in St.
John's Wood.

I was not made aware of the motive for this
sudden departure— I was only told that the
Count had been very particular in leaving his kind
compliments for me. When I ventured on asking
Sir Percival whether Lady Glyde had any one to
attend to her comforts in the absence of the
Countess, he replied that she had Margaret
Porcher to wait on her; and he added that a woman
from the village had been sent for to do the work
down stairs.

The answer really shocked me— there was
such a glaring impropriety in permitting an
under-housemaid to fill the place of
confidential attendant on Lady Glyde. I went
up-stairs at once, and met Margaret on the bedroom
landing.   Her services had not been required
(naturally enough); her mistress having
sufficiently recovered, that morning, to be able to
leave her bed. I asked, next, after Miss Halcombe;
but I was answered in a slouching, sulky
way, which left me no wiser than I was before.
I did not choose to repeat the question, and
perhaps provoke an impertinent reply.  It was
in every respect more becoming, to a person in
my position, to present myself immediately in
Lady Glyde's room.

I found that her ladyship had certainly gained
in health during the last three days.   Although
still sadly weak and nervous, she was able to get
up without assistance, and to walk slowly about
her room, feeling no worse effect from the exertion
than a slight sensation of fatigue.  She had
been made a little anxious that morning about
Miss Halcombe, through having received no
news of her from any one. I thought this seemed
to imply a blamable want of attention on the
part of Mrs. Rubelle; but I said nothing, and
remained with Lady Glyde, to assist her to dress.
When she was ready, we both left the room
together to go to Miss Halcombe.

We were stopped in the passage by the appearance
of Sir Percival.   He looked as if he
had been purposely waiting there to see us.

"Where are you going?"  he said to Lady
Glyde.

"To Marian's room,"  she answered.

"It may spare you a disappointment,"
remarked Sir Percival, "if I tell you at once that
you will not find her there."

"Not find her there!"

"No.   She left the house yesterday morning
with Fosco and his wife."

Lady Glyde was not strong enough to bear the
surprise of this extraordinary statement.  She
turned fearfully pale; and leaned back against
the wall, looking at her husband in dead silence.

I was so astonished myself, that I hardly knew
what to say.   I asked Sir Percival if he really
meant that Miss Halcombe had left Blackwater
Park.

"I certainly mean it,"  he answered.

"In her state, Sir Percival!   Without mentioning
her intentions to Lady Glyde!"

Before he could reply, her ladyship recovered
herself a little, and spoke.

"Impossible!"  she cried out, in a loud,
frightened manner; taking a step or two forward
from the wall.   "Where was the doctor?
where was Mr Dawson when Marian went away?"

"Mr Dawson wasn't wanted, and wasn't
here," said Sir Percival.   "He left of his own
accord, which is enough of itself to show that
she was strong enough to travel.   How you
stare!   If you don't believe she has gone, look
for yourself.   Open her room door, and all the
other room doors, if you like."

She took him at his word, and I followed her.
There was no one in Miss Halcombe's room but
Margaret Porcher, who was busy setting it to
rights.   There was no one in the spare rooms,
or the dressing-rooms, when we looked into them
afterwards.   Sir Percival still waited for us in
the passage.   As we were leaving the last room
that we had examined, Lady Glyde whispered,
"Don't go, Mrs Michelson! don't leave me, for
God's sake!"   Before I could say anything in
return, she was out again in the passage, speaking
to her husband.

"What does it mean, Sir Percival?   I insist—
I beg and pray you will tell me what it means!"