“So you are in the secret, are you? Come now, out with it; where is she?” “Out of your reach, luckily for her.” “Yes, but you are not, unluckily for you!” said Harry, thickly, rising to his feet and standing threateningly over his brother, not heeding Sir George’s voice crying, “Sit down!” “Now, then, where is she?” William thrust away his chair and faced his tipsy brother steadily. “I would not help to put her in your power again by telling you where to find her, even if I knew, if you were to tear me to pieces!” He stepped aside quickly to avoid the lunge Harry made at him, and left the room. “Bravo, young un!” said Wilfred. The baronet afterward tried gentler and subtler means to find out Annie’s hiding-place from the lad; but William kept the secret safely. Meanwhile, the fugitive wife was preparing for a new experience. She had, as she had told William, resolved upon leaving London for awhile, hoping that practice in the country might mature her talent and enable her at the end of a few months to take a higher position than she could aspire to at present. She knew very well that, once out of London, it would be by no means easy to get back; but the feeling that she was advancing no further, and could not hope to advance further without more experience, prevailed over every other; and she thought herself fortunate in getting an engagement, in a traveling company, just about to start on tour, to play second parts in old comedy. It was not going to what are considered the best towns in a theatrical sense; but it was a good company, and Annie had heard that one of the actors of the theater she had just left would be in it too. She had heard Gerald Gibson speak of going into the country, and had come at once to the conclusion that he must be the actor alluded to; she was very glad of this, for he was one of her favorites. When, however, she got on to the stage of the theater which had been engaged for their rehearsals, which was as dark as most stages are in the day-time, she saw no face she knew among the people assembled there, except that of the manager who had engaged her. “I thought you said I should meet one of my late companions,” she remarked to him when he shook hands with her. “Yes, Mr. Cooke is here somewhere,” he answered. “Oh, Mr. Cooke!” she echoed, in a tone of evident disappointment. Now Aubrey was standing in the shadow only a few feet away from her. He was always particularly quiet when he was not remarkably noisy, and, having nobody to talk to at the moment, he had been still as a statue, and had heard every word of this short colloquy, and noticed the tone of Miss Langton’s exclamation: and he was nettled by it. For he had made up his mind that she was decidedly the most attractive of the ladies of the company, and had resolved to pay her the compliment of devoting his attention to her during the tour.