"You have no right to use that word
about the girl, and you know it as well as
I do, mother. Look here. I will be quite
open with you. I love this girl. For the
first time in my life I know what love is.
I left Beckworth on Wednesday because
Mary asked me to do so; and because I
resolved to give myself a fair trial, to see if
absence would make any change in my
feelings, and but for this discovery I should
have remained away for some time. Now
that I find she is gone, I am determined to
learn who she is, and what has become of
her. Tell me all you know, and I will
pledge you my word that, when I have
discovered her, I will wait—I will test my
feelings by time before I speak to her again.
She is a lady by birth;  so much I know.
It is of very little consequence to me, but
to you, with your ideas, of course it
makes a great difference, and——"

"It makes no difference at all!" interrupted
Mrs. Cartaret vehemently.  "A lady!
ma foi!  a girl who runs away from home,
qui court les aventures, who has no name;
who has been advertised and made the
gossip of the county, don't talk to me of it,
Lowndes!  Tenez mon fils, ça me porte le
sang à la tête!"

"What county has she been made the
gossip of?" asked Lowndes, regardless of
the rest of his mother's tirade.

"What do I know?" replied the old
lady, sharply. "I only know that she comes
here with her false character, and that the
curé finds her out, and follows her, and
that she has gone away, and I hope never
to hear her name again—voilà!"

"So they advertised for her, did they?"

"Yes, in the Times—a pretty disgrace!
If I was her father I would lock her up,
and horsewhip her—la coquine!"

"Who is her father?  Come, mother,
you may as well tell me, for I shall find
out, somehow or other."

"I shall tell you nothing, misérable que
tu es!  What! you will follow this creature
—this girl who introduces herself into
houses under false names?  You, who
might marry the heiress of Marley-les-Bois
—a charming, innocent girl, who has never
yet left the ' Sacré CÅ“ur'— and you prefer
to her this—this—aventurière—this
disreputable——"

"There, mother, that is enough. She is
as straightforward and pure-minded a girl
as ever lived;  she never encouraged my
passion in the smallest degree;  on the
contrary, she has nothing of the adventuress
about her—and I think I know the
class pretty well. I am confident she had
some very strong provocation before she
took the strange step which brought her
here;  and I feel certain that you will one
day be sorry for having spoken of her as
you have done. As to your ' Sacre CÅ“ur,'
I have known one or two remarkably queer
ladies who were educated there, and——"

"Ah! now he is going to talk against
religion!  He is going to talk scandal of
the convents!  It wanted but that—ah!"

"No, I mean no disrepect against the
convents. I only mean this: that I prefer
a woman I know, a character that is
formed, to the sheet of white paper upon
which God knows what may be written
by-and-bye. And now, mother, goodnight.
As you are determined to tell me
nothing, we had better say no more on the
subject. It only irritates you, and it does
me no good."

He left the room;  and when Mrs. Rouse
brought up her mistress's chocolate the
next morning, she informed the unhappy
old lady—who had lain awake half the
night devising means (poor innocent soul!)
by which she might divert her son from
the right track—that Mr. Lowndes had
been gone two hours.

On leaving his mother's room, the
previous night, he had sent for the file of
the Times, and had experienced no
difficulty in finding the advertisement which
had reference to Maud. In it, any person,
having information respecting the missing
young lady, was requested to communicate
with a certain soliciter in London.
To London, therefore, Lowndes must
return by the first train in the morning.
It was Saturday, and if he did not see the
solicitor early, his office would be closed,
and two whole days would be lost. First,
however, sorely against his inclination,
he thought it expedient to question Dapper,
and all the men in the stables. He learnt
very little:  a fly from the station had
brought the clergyman and had taken him
and the "young person" back; and the train
they meant to catch was evidently the one
o'clock "down."  At the station he gained
one other fact:  their tickets had been taken
for Salisbury. But as there is a junction
there, and two distinct companies, this did
not insure the travellers having gone no
further. He thought it more prudent,
therefore, to hold by his original plan of
going to London, if only for a few hours.
He could return to Salisbury by the
evening mail, if he failed in obtaining the
information he wanted.