"Not much until the last. I was there when she died." "There! At Edwin Barley's! She died at his place near Hallam." "Yes." And I gave him the outline of what had taken me there: to spend the short interval between mamma's death and my being placed at school. "You must have heard of a—a tragedy"—he spoke the words in a hesitating, unwilling manner—"that occurred there about the same time. A young man, a ward of Edwin Barley's, died." "Philip King. Yes; he was killed. I saw it done, Mr. Chandos." "Saw what done?" "Saw Philip King murdered. That's not a nice word to repeat, but it is what they all called it at the time. I was in the wood. I saw the shot strike him, and watched him fall." "Why, what a strange girl you are!" Mr. Chandos exclaimed, after a pause of astonishment. "What else have you seen?" "Nothing like that. Nothing half so dreadful. I trust I never shall." "I trust not, either. Anne," he continued, dropping his voice to a low, solemn tone, "you say you saw that shot strike him. _Who fired it?_" "It was said to be—but perhaps I ought not to mention the name even to you, Mr. Chandos," I broke off. "Mrs. Hemson cautioned me never to repeat it under any circumstances." "Who is Mrs. Hemson?" "She was also once a Miss Carew of Keppe-Carew. Her father was John Carew; and my grandfather, Hubert Carew, succeeded him. She married Mr. Hemson; he was in trade, and the Carews did not like it: but oh, Mr. Chandos, he is one of the noblest of gentlemen in mind and manners." "As I have heard my mother say. Go on, Anne." "After Mrs. Edwin Barley died, I was sent to Mrs. Hemson's at Dashleigh; she had undertaken the charge of fixing on a school for me. It was she who told me not to mention the name." "You may mention it to me. Was it George Heneage?" "You know it, then, Mr. Chandos!" "I know so much—as the public in general knew. They said it was George Heneage; a gentleman staying there at the time. Did you see who it was that fired the shot? Pray answer me." "I did not see it fired: but I think it was George Heneage. Quite at first I doubted, because—but never mind that. I did not doubt afterwards, and I think it was certainly George Heneage." "'Never mind' will not do for me, Anne. I mind it all; have too much cause; and from me you must conceal nothing. Why did you at first doubt that it was George Heneage?" "I saw Mr. Edwin Barley coming from the direction where the shot was fired, with his gun in his hand, and wondered at the moment whether he had done it. I used to feel afraid of him; I did not like him; and he disliked George Heneage. "Did you hear or know the cause of his dislike of George Heneage?" "I gathered it," I answered, feeling my face flush. "Mrs. Edwin Barley was beautiful, was she not?" he asked, after a pause. "Very beautiful." "Are you anything like her?" I could not help laughing. I like Selina!