"Mrs. Luttrell!" repeated the Rector. "It's soon for her, is it not?" "They want to go away to the seaside," replied the clerk. "What about that notice, sir?" "I'll see to it before Sunday, Jabez. Any news?" "No, sir; not that I've heard of. My wife wanted to persuade me she saw--" At this moment a white-haired old serving-man entered the room with a note, claiming the Rector's attention. "The man's to take back the answer, sir, if you please." "Wait then, Simon." Old Simon stood aside, and the clerk, turning to Mrs. Ashton, continued his unfinished sentence. "She wanted to persuade me she saw young Lord Hartledon pass at six o'clock this morning. A very likely tale that, ma'am." "Perhaps she dreamt it, Jabez," said Mrs. Ashton, quietly. Jabez chuckled; but what he would have answered was interrupted by the old servant. "It's Mr. Elster that's come; not Lord Hartledon." "Mr. Elster! How do you know, Simon?" asked Mrs. Ashton. "The gardener mentioned it, ma'am, when he came in just now," was the servant's reply. "He said he saw Mr. Elster walk past this morning, as if he had just come by the luggage-train. I'm not sure but he spoke to him." "The answer is 'No,' Simon," interposed the Rector, alluding to the note he had been reading. "But you can send word that I'll come in some time to-day." "Charles, did you hear what Simon said--that Mr. Elster has come down?" asked Mrs. Ashton. "Yes, I heard it," replied the doctor; and there was a hard dry tone in his voice, as if the news were not altogether palatable to him. "It must have been Percival Elster your wife saw, Jabez; not Lord Hartledon." Jabez had been arriving at the same conclusion. "They used to be much alike in height and figure," he observed; "it was easy to mistake the one for the other. Then that's all this morning, sir?" "There is nothing more, Jabez."