"Mr Thompson," continued the lady, forgetting my name in her anxiety, "Lord Railton will go raving mad if this should come about. We shall all be punished. I know him well. You, for having brought Mr Sinclair here; I, for having introduced him to the impostors; and himself for having been caught in their snares. And he is a powerful man, and has the means to punish us." He had certainly the means of punishing Mrs Twisleton; for her son, at college, had been already promised the next presentation to a valuable living in Yorkshire. Her fears on my account were hardly so well founded. "Look here, Mr Wilson," said Mrs Twisleton, hurrying to her writing-desk, and taking from it a letter, which she placed in my hands. "Read that." I ran my eye over the document. It was from a female correspondent in London and it conjured Mrs Twisleton to avoid all connexion whatever with General Travis and his too fascinating family. The general was described as a bold bad man, utterly ruined, involved beyond the possibility of recovery, a mere hanger-on of fashion, an adventurer. His wife was spoken of as a mere simple instrument in his hand; naturally disposed to goodness, but perverted by the cruel necessity of her position. But what said this timely--oh, if but timely!--informer respecting _her_ whose name I greedily sought out in these disastrous pages? I grew sick as I proceeded in the narrative. Elinor Travis--so said the letter--was a clever, subtle, accomplished, and designing woman. Numerous had been her flirtations, not few her conquests; but the game she had brought down, it had never been worth the general's while to bag. The general had been a great traveller. He had passed some years in India. During his residence there, the fair fame of Elinor Travis had been--oh, horror!--sullied; falsely so, some said; but still sullied. She had loved an officer with whom, it was reported--I read no more. "The writer of this letter, madam," I asked--"is she trustworthy?" "Alas! alas! yes," exclaimed Mrs Twisleton, in despair. "It must be prevented by all and every means," I continued. "We are still safe then?" "Yes, although I cannot answer for an hour. He must be spoken to, remonstrated with"---- "Threatened," added Mrs Twisleton, stamping with her foot. "Any thing to save us." "I will appeal to his reason." "Then we are lost," said the lady, emphatically. "That family never listened to reason yet." "Do you know," I enquired, "this great foreigner whom they call the Yahoo?" "Oh, no! no!" exclaimed Mrs Twisleton, shaking her head impatiently. "I don't know any of them. I disown them all; they are all impostors. I said so from the beginning. Oh, Mr Wilson, what _can_ he have to do with it? How can you talk so idly?" "Mrs Twisleton," said I, "have I your permission to communicate the contents of this letter to Mr Sinclair?"