four days before her flight. If so, if she
had received a letter from the girl, it must
have been the one notifying to her former
mistress the girl's projected change of
condition. At all events one thing was clear:
she had not taken service, as Miss
Pomeroy had given him to understand Mary
was about to do, having obtained a situation
mainly through the instrumentality of
his written recommendation. He went over,
in his own mind, every little circumstance
of that last morning's interview, when
he had chanced to pick up the letter Maud
had dropped. He recalled now the fact
that the letter was directed to M. H., and
remembered, too, the momentary look of
vexation on Maud's face, when he gave
her the letter, and the explanation which
she had tendered, an explanation which
then had seemed so perfectly satisfactory.
Putting one thing with another, now,
however, it seemed to afford some possible clue
to this mystery, though so slight as
probably to break in the unravelling. How
should he follow it up? He tried to remember
the address, stamped in blue upon
the back of the envelope, but he could not.
The only thing he felt nearly sure of was
that the post-town was Salisbury. Now,
in Salisbury lived the old aunt of whom
mention has been already made.

Sitting in his little study that evening,
with the notes of the morrow's sermon
before him, he found his thoughts
rebelliously wandering, do what he would, until
he started up with a sudden resolution.

"It is no use going on like this- I will
go to Bristol on Monday. I have not been
absent for more than a year. The vicar
cannot refuse me three or four days. . . . See
Mary, and learn from her exactly when,
and what she wrote to Miss Pomeroy, also
whether she knows anything of that letter
which Miss Pomeroy said was from a lady
engaging Mary's services.... If I can gain
no satisfactory information, then I will go
on to Salisbury, to my aunt's, and see what
I can do there. Anyhow, I believe it is
better for me than remaining here, doing
nothing."

After this, he was able to turn to his
sermon, and to perform his duty the
following day with more concentration of
mind. He said nothing, either to Lady
Herriesson or to any one else of his object:
he simply notified to the rector that he had
urgent reasons for wishing to absent
himself for some days; undertaking to be back,
at latest, on the following Saturday. And
early on Monday morning he set out.

At Bristol he met with a disappointment
which might almost have been foreseen.
The newly-married couple were away, at
Weston-super-Mare: they would not be
back till the Wednesday: so John made
up his mind to follow them. He did not
reach Weston till so late, however, that he
thought it best to delay seeing Mary till
the next morning; when he found her all
smiles, and blushing red roses at the
unexpected sight of the curate on the beach.
In less than ten minutes he had gained
the information he needed. Mary had
never heard of a situation: there never
had been any question of one between
Miss Pomeroy and herself. She had
written to the young lady to announce her
engagement, and had received a kind
letter in reply, which she was able to show
John Miles – its date being of importance –
and then she had heard no more, until the
few lines came, enclosing the letter to
Lady Herriesson. This Mary had posted,
as she was desired, and would have
preserved a strict silence on the subject, but
for the curate's urgent and searching
inquiries. She could not resist them. The
Reverend John Miles had been the girl's
second conscience for the last four years.
When she came to learn that her dear
young mistress was missing, and the anxiety
that prevailed on her account, she told him
at once all she knew. It was little enough:
and yet sufficient to strengthen the growing
suspicion in John's mind. The cover
of this letter (without date) Mary had not
kept; but she had had the curiosity to
examine the postmark, and she felt very
certain it was Salisbury.

Here, then, were the facts John had
elicited. First, that two days prior to the
one on which she told him that Mary had
found a situation, Maud had received and
answered the girl's letter which announced
her marriage. Consequently, there could
not be a doubt that Maud had purposely
deceived him. What had been her object?
Secondly, the letter which came from
Salisbury, and was directed to M. H., was
clearly not meant for Mary Hind. Thirdly,
Miss Pomeroy's lines, enclosing the letter
to her mother, which she had sent to
Bristol, evidently to avoid being traced by
the postmark, had come also from Salisbury.
John Miles had no longer any
doubt that somewhere in the neighbourhood
of Salisbury she was to bo found. And,
moreover, a suspicion of the truth, or of
something very like it, was now taking
possession of his mind. He knew Maud's