This early train brought him to London
by eleven o'clock, and before noon he was
in the solicitor's office. He sent in his
card, and was admitted at once. The
lawyer rose, and advanced with extreme
urbanity.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance,
Mr. Cartaret. I knew your uncle very
well, and have often been at Beckworth, in
former days. Pray take a chair. What is
there I can do for you?"

It was a great piece of good luck:  the
way was thus unexpectedly smoothed for
Lowndes. He drew the advertisement from
his pocket.

"I am come to speak to you about this.
Have you yet received any information
touching the person whom it concerns?"

"Why, bless my soul!——" The lawyer
stopped short, and looked sharply at the
young man over his spectacles. "No, Mr.
Cartaret, we have not—what do you know
about her?"

"Wait a minute. I will tell you;  but I
must make it a condition that you first tell
me who she is, and where her people live.
I think, as you know something of us, you
will trust to the honour of a Cartaret to
keep this a profound secret, if you require
it. But the circumstances of the case are
so peculiar, that I do not choose to say
anything, unless I am made acquainted
with the young lady's antecedents."

"Well," said the solicitor, after a
moment's pause. "I see no reason why I
should not tell you. The whole of the
neighbourhood has been full of the scandal
for the last month, and, as you say, sir, I
am sure I can trust to the honour of a
Cartaret to turn this information to no ill
purpose. The young lady is Miss Pomeroy.
She is step-daughter to Sir Andrew
Herriesson, and left Mortlands, Sir
Andrew's place, it is supposed, with some
romantic idea of supporting herself, and
being no longer a burden on her stepfather.
At least it is tolerably certain that
she went away alone, and that love, at all
events, had nothing to say to this
extraordinary step."

"Pardon me an instant. Do you know
anything of the curate of the parish?"

"No. Why?  He was questioned, I
remember, as being almost the only person
with whom Miss Pomeroy was on terms of
any intimacy, and it is greatly in consequence
of what he said, that we have been
led to the conclusion that Miss Pomeroy
had conceived a morbid repugnance to
continuing to be dependent on Sir Andrew.
It appears that she had refused a magnificent
offer of marriage only a few days
previously. She is a peculiar character,
with unusual ideas upon most subjects, for
a young lady, I apprehend."

It was now Lowndes's turn to give the
narrative of Mary Hind's entering his
mother's service, and of her sojourn at
Beckworth. He did this succinctly, making,
of course, no allusion to his own feelings,
nor to his conduct, which had so justly
incensed her as to have very nearly driven
her from the house the day prior to the
curate's arrival.

"And now, look here. How comes it,
that if he took her home—that was on
Thursday—you should not have had notice
of the fact before this?  To say nothing of
a telegram, which they would surely have
sent, there have been two posts. Doesn't
it strike you as very extraordinary?"

"I doubt whether she would go home;
but I cannot make it out. This Mr. Miles
would surely have communicated with
them—— "  He reflected for a minute,
and looked at his watch. "I will tell you
what:  we close at two to-day, and
tomorrow is Sunday. Do you care to
prosecute this inquiry any further? If so,
we will start together by the three o'clock
train, Mr. Cartaret. We shall be at Scornton
by nine, and might get on to Mortlands
to-night. What say you, sir?"

The two men started by the three o'clock
train.

MR. DICKENS'S NEW WORK.
Just Published, PRICE ONE SHILLING,
PART FIVE OF
THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD.
BY CHARLES DICKENS
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY S. L. FILDES.
London:  CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, Piccadilly.

Just published, price 5s. 6d., bound in green cloth,
THE THIRD VOLUME
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