“Shut up, Helen! You are always ready to believe the worst of everybody. I tell you I believe that there has been foul play in this matter, and, if the girl has gone away, she has been driven away in some underhanded manner. I can read the signs of the times, if I am a superannuated, and I shall not rest until I know more of this matter,” and the crusty old lady actually shed tears over the absence of the patient, gentle girl, to whom she was becoming deeply attached. “The very fact of her giving a false name goes against her,” persisted Lady Randal. “That was not just the thing, of course,” was the rather subdued reply. Then she added, as if a new thought struck her: “I believe that I was to blame for that, after all. I had a bad cold at that time, and was as deaf as a post. I am convinced now that she gave me her name correctly, and I misunderstood her, and she, having had trouble with those folks, let it go so.” “She had no business to do that,” returned Lady Randal, with an expression of righteous indignation. “If she never does anything worse than give an assumed name, she’ll be better than some folks whom I know. I reckon you’ve some sins on your conscience, Helen, blacker than any that poor girl ever thought of,” said Lady Ruxley, spitefully. Notwithstanding the general belief that Miss Douglas, as she was now called, had absconded, Sir Charles gave orders that the search should be kept up a while longer. Something might have happened to her, he reasoned, and he would give her the benefit of the doubt. About eight o’clock Adrian Dredmond was announced. He had been to Lady Ruxley’s villa, but, upon being told that she and her companion were at the Hall, he drove immediately thither. Lady Randal met him in the hall on her return from Lady Ruxley’s apartments. She greeted him cordially, and then, taking his arm, led him into the drawing-room, where he was received with loud acclamation, for he was a favorite wherever he went. The conversation ran in a new channel for a few moments after his entrance, but the all-absorbing topic was soon resumed, and Brownie’s character was most unmercifully picked to pieces again, while with a terrible sinking at his heart, Adrian soon learned something of what had transpired, and it was with great difficulty that he maintained his composure, hoping to learn more. But he could not bear the aspersions cast upon his betrothed, and after a terribly scathing remark upon Brownie’s virtue from Isabel, followed by a bitter denunciation from Mrs. Coolidge, his indignation burst forth. He arose, and, with a flushed face and blazing eyes, demanded of the latter: “Of whom do I understand you to be speaking?” “Of Miss Douglas, Mr. Dredmond—the governess who came to England with us, and who has turned out so sadly,” she replied, serenely, and all unconscious of the terrible storm hovering over her head.