Westwood had scouted Cynthia's notion that the woman in black who seemed to be following them could possibly be a spy; nevertheless he meditated upon it with some anxiety, and resolved, on his arrival at his lodgings, to be wary and circumspect--also to show that he was on his guard. He relapsed therefore into the very uncommunicative "single gentleman" whom Mrs. Gunn, his landlady, had at first found him to be, and refused rather gruffly her invitation that afternoon to take tea with her in her own parlor in the company of herself and her niece. "He's grumpier than ever," she said to this niece, who was no other than Sabina Meldreth, now paying a visit--on business principles--of indefinite duration to her aunt's abode in Camden Town; "and I did think that you'd melted him a bit last week, Sabina! But he's as close as wax! Let's sit down to our tea before it gets black and bitter, as he won't come." "He must have seen me in the Gardens," said Sabina, who was dressed in the brightest of blue gowns, with red ribbons at her throat and wrists, "though I should never have thought that he would recognise me, being in black and having that thick black veil over my face." "I don't see what you wanted to foller him for!" said Mrs. Gunn. "What business o' yours was it where he went and what he did? I don't think you'll ever make anything of him"--for Miss Meldreth had begun to harbor matrimonial designs on the unconscious Mr. Reuben Dare. "I'm not so sure," said Sabina. "Once get a man by himself, and you can do a' most anything with him, so long as there's no other woman in the way." "And is there another woman in the way?" "Yes, aunt Eliza, there is." "You don't say so!" exclaimed Mrs. Gunn, emptying the water-jug into the tea-pot in pure absence of mind. "You saw him with one, did you?" "Yes, aunt Eliza, I did." "And what was she like, Sabina?" "Well, some folks would call her handsome," said Sabina dubiously; "and she was dressed like a lady--I'll say that for her. But what's odd is that I'm nearly sure I heard her call him 'father.' She's young enough to be his daughter, anyway." "Did he call her anything?" "I couldn't hear. But I'll tell you what I did afterwards, aunt Eliza; I followed her when she came out at the gate--and she didn't see me then. She went straight to a house in Norton Square; and I managed to make some inquiries about her at a confectioner's shop in the neighborhood. The house belongs to a music-mistress; and this girl is a singer. 'Cynthia West,' they call her--I've seen her name in the newspapers. Well, I thought I would wait round a bit, and presently I saw a man go to the house to deliver a note; and thinks I to myself, 'I know that face.' And so I did. It was Mr. Lepel's man, Jenkins, as used to come down with him to Beechfield." "You don't say so!" cried Mrs. Gunn, raising her hands in amazement.