"They clanked; I know that. I can tell you it gave me a turn. And after all, after terrifying us nearly to death, Mr. Chandos, I hear, entertained them amicably at supper." "It was as well to be civil; it was not their fault that they came. A trick had been played on them." "A trick? I don't understand." "A note was written in Mr. Chandos's name to the inspector of police at Warsall, asking for mounted officers to be sent over. They supposed they were coming to take into custody the person who had been playing tricks at Chandos. Tricks: that was the word used." Mrs. Penn stared at me. "Who wrote the note?" "Mr. Chandos does not know. He received a note himself also last night, an anonymous one: insinuating that as you and I were the only strangers at Chandos, one of us must be the guilty person." "What next?" demanded Mrs. Penn, angrily taking up the words. "Does Mr. Chandos suppose I stole my own lace and rifled my own letter? But it is only what I have anticipated." "Mr. Chandos knows better. I say it was the anonymous letter that suggested the idea to him. I thought it seemed to point more to me than to you." "Mr. Chandos would not admit the idea—would he?" "Oh, no. I am quite easy on that score. Mr. Chandos knows he may trust me." Whether Mrs. Penn thought this remark seemed to reflect on herself; to shift the imputation on her, failing me, I could not tell; certainly no such thing had been in my mind. Her eyes grew angry: she rose from the chair, and shook her finger in my face. "Anne Hereford, I have warned you once not to allow yourself to grow attached to Mr. Chandos; I now warn you again. There are reasons—I may not speak them—why it could bring you nothing but misery. Misery! It is but a faint word for it: disgrace, shame; more than you in your inexperience can imagine of evil. Better that you fell in love with the lowest manservant attached to the place, than with Harry Chandos." The tell-tale crimson arose in my cheeks, and I bent to pick one of the late rose-buds, entwining themselves about the trellis-work outside. "Child! should harm ever come of this, recollect that I did my best to warn you. I am older than you by many years; had I ever possessed a daughter, she might have been of your age." "Thank you, Mrs. Penn," I gently said; "there is no cause to fear for me." "Where has Mr. Chandos gone?" "To Warsall. He would like to discover the writer of the note to the police." "You seem to be quite in his confidence," remarked Mrs. Penn. "He told me so much—that he intended to ride thither. It was no very great amount of confidence." "There are many things I don't like in this house," she continued, after an interval of silence. "What do you suppose they did last night? Actually locked us up in the east wing! Turned the key upon us! I was coming forth to see if I could find out what those police were doing, and I found myself a prisoner! Madam Hill's act and deed, that was."