"It means," he answered, " that Miss Halcombe
was strong enough yesterday morning to
sit up, and be dressed; and that she insisted on
taking advantage of Fosco's going to London,
to go there too."

"To London!"

"Yes— on her way to Limmeridge."

Lady Glyde turned, and appealed to me.

"You saw Miss Halcombe last,"  she said.
"Did you think she looked fit to travel in
four-and-twenty hours afterwards?"

"Not in my opinion, your ladyship."

Sir Percival, on his side, instantly turned, and
appealed to me also.

"Before you went away," he said, " did
you, or did you not, tell the nurse that Miss
Halcombe looked much stronger and better?"

"I certainly made the remark, Sir Percival."

He addressed her ladyship again, the moment
I offered that reply.

"Set one of Mrs. Michelson's opinions fairly
against the other,"  he said, "and try to be
reasonable about a perfectly plain matter.  If
she had not been well enough to be moved,
do you think we should any of us have risked
letting her go?   She has got three competent
people to look after her— Fosco and your aunt,
and Mrs. Rubelle, who went away with them
expressly for that purpose. They took a whole
carriage yesterday, and made a bed for her on
the seat, in case she felt tired. To-day, Fosco
and Mrs. Rubelle go on with her themselves to
Cumberland——"

"Why does Marian go to Limmeridge, and
leave me here by myself?" said her ladyship,
interrupting Sir Percival.

"Because your uncle won't receive you till he
has seen your sister first," he replied. " Have
you forgotten the letter he wrote to her, at the
beginning of her illness. It was shown to you;
you read it yourself; and you ought to remember
it."

"I do remember it."

"If you do, why should you be surprised at
her leaving you?   You want to be back at
Limmeridge; and she has gone there to get
your uncle's leave for you, on his own terms."

Poor Lady Glyde's eyes filled with tears.

"Marian never left me before," she said,
"without bidding me good-by."

"She would have bid you good-by this time,"
returned Sir Percival, "if she had not been
afraid of herself and of you.   She knew you
would try to stop her; she knew you would
distress her by crying.  Do you want to make any
more objections?   If you do, you must come
down stairs and ask questions in the dining-room.
These worries upset me. I want a glass
of wine."

He left us suddenly.

His manner all through this strange
conversation had been very unlike what it usually
was.   He seemed to be almost as nervous and
fluttered, every now and then, as his lady herself.
I should never have supposed that his
health had been so delicate, or his composure so
easy to upset.

I tried to prevail on Lady Glyde to go back
to her room; but it was useless.   She stopped
in the passage, with the look of a woman whose
mind was panic-stricken:

"Something has happened to my sister!" she
said."

"Remember, my lady, what surprising energy
there is in Miss Halcombe," I replied.   " She
might well make an effort which other ladies, in
her situation, would be unfit for. I hope and
believe there is nothing wrong— I do indeed."

"I must follow Marian!" said her ladyship,
with the same panic-stricken look.  " I must go
where she has gone; I must see that she is alive
and well with my own eyes. Come! come down
with me to Sir Percival."

I hesitated; fearing that my presence might
be considered an intrusion; I attempted to
represent this to her ladyship; but she was
deaf to me. She held my arm fast enough to
force me to go down stairs with her; and she
still clung to me with all the little strength she
had, at the moment when I opened the
dining-room door.

Sir Percival was sitting at the table with a
decanter of wine before him. He raised the
glass to his lips, as we went in, and drained it
at a draught. Seeing that he looked at me
angrily when he put it down again, I attempted
to make some apology for my accidental presence
in the room.

"Do you suppose there are any secrets going
on here?" he broke out, suddenly; " there are
none— there is nothing underhand; nothing kept
from you or from any one."   After speaking those
strange words, loudly and sternly, he filled himself
another glass of wine, and asked Lady Glyde
what she wanted of him.

"If my sister is fit to travel, I am fit to
travel," said her ladyship, with more firmness
than she had yet shown. " I come to beg you
will make allowances for my anxiety about
Marian, and let me follow her at once, by the
afternoon train."

"You must wait till to-morrow," replied Sir
Percival; " and then, if you don't hear to the
contrary, you can go. I don't suppose you are
at all likely to hear to the contrary— so I shall
write to Fosco by to-night's post."

He said those last words, holding his glass up
to the light, and looking at the wine in it,
instead of at Lady Glyde. Indeed, he never once
looked at her throughout the conversation. Such
a singular want of good breeding in a gentleman
of his rank impressed me, I own, very painfully.

"Why should you write to Count Fosco?"
she asked, in extreme surprise.

"To tell him to expect you by the mid-day
train," said Sir Percival. " He will meet you at
the station, when you get to London, and take
you on to sleep at your aunt's, in St. John's
Wood."

Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently
round my arm— why, I could not imagine.

"There is no necessity for Count Fosco to
meet me," she said. " I would rather not stay
in London to sleep."