DEAR LADY ELAINE--I sincerely trust that the first edge of your grief is dulled by this time, and that you have made preparations for leaving the old home. The new earl has been extremely kind and considerate toward you. According to the provisions of your father’s will, I and Viscount Rivington are in a measure responsible for you, and as you are practically without a fortune, your future home must be the best I can afford. The Lodge will doubtless appear a very insignificant place after the splendid surroundings of Seabright Hall. Still, none of us can choose our own lot in life, and the dear viscount has acquiesced to all my proposals. I have written to your cousin, the new earl, informing him that it is my intention to relieve him of further responsibility, so far as you are concerned, to-morrow morning. Your very dear friend, Miss Nugent, will accompany me. Sincerely yours, ELEANOR GAYNOR. Lady Elaine shivered when she read the letter. There was something ominous in its softly-turned sentences. At dinner the earl broached the subject. “If you are not quite ready to leave, Lady Elaine,” he said, “I shall be glad to have you here as long as it suits your own convenience. The countess and the girls will be here next week.” “Thank you,” Elaine replied, listlessly. “There is no reason that I should delay the inevitable. I will leave Seabright Hall to-morrow morning with Lady Gaynor.” “A strange choice of the late earl’s,” he mused. “Lady Gaynor is notorious in certain circles. She is miserably poor, and makes an income by coaching the daughters of rich Americans and successful tradesmen generally.” Lady Elaine did not reply, but again that icy shudder passed through her, leaving her as cold as death. Her great sorrow had left her numb and spiritless. Lady Gaynor came next morning; she was a large, handsome woman of fifty or thereabouts--a woman with determination marked in every line of her smiling face. For ten years she had succeeded in maintaining a small estate known as “The Lodge” upon absolutely no assured income at all. The house and lands were incumbered, but Lady Gaynor had managed, so far, to keep off the marauding hands of the money-lenders. But of late her practices had obtained the severe notice of people who moved in the charmed circle of the court, and Lady Gaynor knew that she must employ sharp wits in other directions, or fall a prey to the harpies which, like the vampire, feed upon the blood of human hearts. Then the Earl of Seabright in some way became entangled in her toils, and many rumors were rife when he died. This was a serious blow to Lady Gaynor, but there was one hope still left. Upon his marriage with Lady Elaine, Viscount Rivington had promised her a handsome check--a check that would free her of the Jews, and still leave a respectable sum with which to make fresh ventures. It was really a matter of life and death to Lady Gaynor.