He took leave of them, and got out by the aid of Thomas, contriving to elude the shark. And the next day the friendly steamer conveyed him into exile on other shores. The prevalent opinion at Colonel Hope's was, that he paid his expenses with the proceeds of the diamond bracelet. Perhaps it was not only the "bother of the bracelet" as Thomas phrased it, that was rendering Alice Dalrymple so miserable. That, of course, was bad enough to bear, from its very uncertainty. But she was in trouble about her sister. Selina's debts had become known to the world, and the embarrassment into which they had flung her husband. What with her seven thousand pounds (at least) of debts, and the liabilities cast on Oscar by the two London seasons, he owed a sum of ten thousand pounds. How was he to pay it? He knew not. That he should be a crippled man for years and years, obliged to live in the nearest possible way, before the debts and their attendant costs, in the shape of interest and expenses, could be worked off, he knew. Selina knew it now, and had the grace to feel repentant. They had shut themselves up at Moat Grange, were "immured in it," Selina called it, every outlay of every kind being cut down. All these things tried Alice; and would try her more as the days went on. There was no corner on earth to which she could turn for comfort. In the silent watches of the night, in the broad glare of noonday, one question was ever tormenting her brain--which of the two had taken the bracelet? Impossible though it seemed to suspect either of stealing it, emphatically though they both denied it, common sense told Alice Dalrymple that one of them it must have been. CHAPTER XVIII. AN UNPLEASANT RUMOUR. Once more a year has gone its round, bringing again to London all the stir and bustle of another season. It is a lovely afternoon towards the close of May, and there is some slight commotion in Chenevix House. Only the commotion of an unexpected arrival. Lady Mary Cleveland, with her infant child and its nurse, had come up from Netherleigh on a short visit. The infant, barely four weeks old yet, was a very small and fretful young gentleman, who had chosen to make his appearance in the world two good months before the world expected him. No one was at home but Lady Grace. She ran down the stairs to welcome her sister. "My dear Mary! I am so glad to see you! We did not expect you until Monday. You are doubly welcome." "I thought it would make no difference--my coming a few days earlier, and without warning you," said Lady Mary, as she kissed her elder sister. "I am not very strong, Grace, and Mr. Forth has been anxious that I should have a change. This morning was so warm and fine, and I felt so languid, that he said to me, 'Why not start today?' So he and my husband packed me off, whether I would or no. Where's mamma?"