Though Lady Avondale had not seen Buchanan since her marriage, and had heard that he was offended with her, she wrote to him immediately upon hearing of Alice’s fate, and urged him by every tie, she thought most sacred and dear—by every impression most likely to awaken his compassion, to restore the unfortunate girl to her suffering father, or at least to confide her, to her care, that she might if possible protect and save her from further misfortune.—To her extreme astonishment, she received an answer to this letter with a positive assurance from him that he had no concern, whatever in Miss Mac Allain’s departure; that he was as ignorant as herself, whither she could be gone; and that it might be recollected he had left Castle Delaval some days previous to that event. Lady Dartford who had returned to London and sometimes corresponded with Sophia, now corroborated Buchanan’s statement, and assured her that she had no reason to believe Buchanan concerned in this dark affair, as she had seen him several times and he utterly denied it. Lady Dartford was however too innocent, and inexperienced to know how men of the world can deceive; she was even ignorant of her husband’s conduct; and though she liked not Lady Margaret, she doubted not that she was her friend:—who indeed doubts till they learn by bitter experience the weakness of confiding! CHAPTER XXII. The whole party, at Castle Delaval, now proceeded to London for the winter, where Lord and Lady Avondale were already established in the Duke’s mansion in .... Square. A slight cold and fever, added to the anxiety and grief Lady Avondale had felt for her unhappy friend, had confined her entirely to her own apartment; and since her arrival in town, Count Gondimar was almost the only person who had been hitherto admitted to her presence. He and Viviani now lodged in the same house; but the latter still concealed himself and never was admitted to Lady Margaret’s presence except secretly and with caution. He often enquired after Calantha; and one evening the following conversation took place respecting her between himself and the Count: “You remember her,” said Gondimar, “a wild and wayward girl. Is she less, do you suppose, an object of attraction now in the more endearing character of mother and of wife—so gentle, so young she seems, so pure, and yet so passionately attached to her husband and infant boy, that I think even you Viviani would feel convinced of her integrity. She seems indeed one born alone to love, and to be loved, if love itself might exist in a creature whom purity, and every modest feeling seem continually to surround.”