as he crossed the threshold of the drawing-
room that night. He met four antagonistic
faces directed towards him, and two of
them were unknown to him. John glanced
at the lawyer, and felt that this stranger,
whoever he might be, was scrutinising him
keenly. He turned to the younger man,
and, though by no means favourably
impressed, experienced that kind of unpleasant
fascination which compels one to look
again. Lowndes stuck his glass in his eye,
and "took stock" of the curate, from his
rubicund face down to his large, well-
rubbed hands (which Lowndes knew must
be smelling of yellow soap), and thence to
his capacious feet. John had walked fast,
and was warm. Lowndes derived infinite
satisfaction from a careful survey of the
rival before him. The contrast between
the two was curious. One might be likened
to an impudent supercilious terrier, who
regards the world disparagingly; the other
to an ungainly shepherd's dog, whose
fidelity and watchfulness wear but a sorry
coat.

"It isn't possible," said Lowndes to himself,
as he curled the ends of his moustache,
"that she can care for a fellow like that."
But before the interview was over, another
voice had replied, "He has that within
him which you have not. She respects
him: she cannot respect you. Therefore,
to such an one as she even this is possible,
that she should marry a fellow with a nose
like a lobster, who doesn't know what
the devil to do with his hands and his
feet!"

The proceedings opened thus. The door
had scarcely closed behind Miles before Sir
Andrew shouted out, "Well, sir! what
have you come here to say, eh?"

John glanced at the strangers. "What
I have to say, Sir Andrew, must be said
privately to you and Lady——"

"Oh, never mind these gentlemen, sir.
They are friends of mind, and you arrive
very opportunely to confront them, and to
meet their charge, if you can. Shall I
tell you what they say, sir? That Miss
Pomeroy's evasion from this house is your
doing."

"It is untrue," replied John, simply.

"Pardon me, Sir Andrew; there is no
proof—we did not advance that," said
Forbes.

"Well, then that you induced her to
leave Beckworth House with you two days
ago."

"That is true. I am here to tell you so."

"Oh! you are, are you? You confess it,
then? And where the devil has she been
ever since?"

"Under my aunt, Mrs. Hicks's, roof at
Salisbury."

"And why were we not apprised of the
fact before?"

"Well, the truth is, Miss Pomeroy
destroyed both a telegram and a letter that I
wrote to Lady Herriesson on Thursday. I
only learnt this last night."

"I don't believe it. I don't believe one
word of it. Why the devil, sir, did you
take her to any aunt of yours, instead of
bringing her here? It is a plant. I see
the whole thing now. I believe you knew
where she was all along. You thought,
after all this scandal, that we should be
only too glad to consent to her marrying
any one—even a fellow like you. But
you'll find yourself mistaken, sir. I look
upon you as an unmitigated rascal, and I
shall put the bishop in possession of all the
facts of the case to-morrow."

"You are disgracing yourself, Sir
Andrew," said John, who grew more and
more self-possessed as the baronet's rage
increased—"you are disgracing yourself
far more than you can injure me by your
unwarrantable suspicions. When I left
this, on Monday, I knew as little where
Miss Pomeroy was as yourself. I followed
up a slight clue till I found her, under
circumstances which made it very advisable
that she should be removed at once to other
keeping."

"You own it! Upon my life, sir, your
coolness is amazing! As if Mrs. Cartaret's,
of Beckworth (whom I know well, by
name), was not better than any Mrs.
Hicks's! Miss Pomeroy disgraced herself,
and has caused Lady Herriesson great
anxiety by her conduct; but the refuge
she sought was at least respectable. At
any rate, with Mrs. Cartaret she was under
good protection."

"I am afraid, very far from it," said
John, quietly.

Lowndes bit his lip. Before he could
speak, Sir Andrew exclaimed:

"What do you mean by that, sir?
Come, I insist upon your speaking. No
prevarications."

"I will tell you what I mean, Sir
Andrew. I found Miss Pomeroy made the
subject of coarse jokes from railway-guards
and servants, owing to Mr. Cartaret's
attentions, a young man, apparently, of very lax
principles, whom it is not good for any girl's
name to be coupled with."

"Oh! indeed? Well, this is Mr. Cartaret.