Victoria's big eyes began to roll wildly in their sockets; she was astonished to find that Clo had for some time seen that things were going wrong, when the fact had escaped her own observation, and, for the first time in the course of their acquaintance, she felt a sort of respect for her usual foe but temporary ally. "Does yer tink dey's quarr'ling?" she asked. "When I hears thunder," said Clo, sententiously, "I allers takes it there's a storm brewin'." Vic looked more puzzled than ever, and Dolf was not much better off, though he tried to appear full to the brim with wisdom and sagacity. "Yer 'members the night missus lost her bracelet, Mr. Dolf?" asked Clo. "I does bery well." "When missus bemeaned herself to shout out at me as if I'd been a sarpint," cried Clo, viciously. "Wal, if ever I see thunder I seed it in marster's face dat ar night!" "Oh!" exclaimed Victoria, bundling up her work, "if you and Mr. Dolf has got secrets to talk ober, I'd better go 'way." "Who's a destryin' the harmony now?" shouted Clo. "It's raal sinful, Victory, to give way to temper like you does." "Oh, dat's all fine 'nuff. But I don't wish to stand in nobody's way. I'd better take my work upstairs." "Set still, set still, Miss Victory," urged Dolf. "Der's no secret. We shall have de uttermost pleasure in making you 'quainted wid de pint in question." Clorinda did not look altogether pleased with his eagerness to explain; she rather liked Victoria to suppose there was a secret between Dolf and herself; it seemed like paying off old scores, and though in a friendly mood, Clorinda was a woman still. "'Splain or not, jis' as yer please," said Vic, tossing her head, viciously, "it's quite 'material to me." But Dolf gave a voluble account of what his master and mistress had said and done the night the bracelet was lost, and ornamented the conversation beautifully, calling on Clorinda to set him right if he erred, and the points where Clo most loudly expressed her approval as being the exact words spoken, were those Dolf embroidered most highly. "Why, dar goes marster now," exclaimed Victoria, suddenly. "He's gwine out to walk." They all rushed to the window to look, as if there had been something wonderful in the sight, and just then Sally rushed in with a cry: "The soup's bilin' over, Clo; come--quick!" CHAPTER LVIII. THE INTERCEPTED TELEGRAM. That afternoon confinement in the house became so irksome to Grantley Mellen that he could support it no longer, so he put on his hat and hurried out into the grounds. Upon one point his mind was fully made up. The clue to the mystery appeared to be in his hands; he would follow it out to the end now--he would know the worst. If this woman had wronged him he resolved to sweep her out of his life, even as he had done that false one in years gone by.