“You want to know what I think of Emily,” she answered. “Your letter told me you were in love; but I didn’t believe your letter. I have always doubted whether you were capable of feeling true love--until I saw Emily. The moment she entered the room, I knew that I had never properly appreciated my brother. You _are_ in love with her, Miles; and you are a better man than I thought you. Does that express my opinion?” Mirabel took her wasted hand, and kissed it gratefully. “What a position I am in!” he said. “To love her as I love her; and, if she knew the truth, to be the object of her horror--to be the man whom she would hunt to the scaffold, as an act of duty to the memory of her father!” “You have left out the worst part of it,” Mrs. Delvin reminded him. “You have bound yourself to help her to find the man. Your one hope of persuading her to become your wife rests on your success in finding him. And you are the man. There is your situation! You can’t submit to it. How can you escape from it?” “You are trying to frighten me, Agatha.” “I am trying to encourage you to face your position boldly.” “I am doing my best,” Mirabel said, with sullen resignation. “Fortune has favored me so far. I have, really and truly, been unable to satisfy Emily by discovering Miss Jethro. She has left the place at which I saw her last--there is no trace to be found of her--and Emily knows it.” “Don’t forget,” Mrs. Delvin replied, “that there is a trace to be found of Mrs. Rook, and that Emily expects you to follow it.” Mirabel shuddered. “I am surrounded by dangers, whichever way I look,” he said. “Do what I may, it turns out to be wrong. I was wrong, perhaps, when I brought Emily here.” “No!” “I could easily make an excuse,” Mirabel persisted “and take her back to London.” “And for all you know to the contrary,” his wiser sister replied, “Mrs. Rook may go to London; and you may take Emily back in time to receive her at the cottage. In every way you are safer in my old tower. And--don’t forget--you have got my money to help you, if you want it. In my belief, Miles, you _will_ want it.” “You are the dearest and best of sisters! What do you recommend me to do?” “What you would have been obliged to do,” Mrs. Delvin answered, “if you had remained in London. You must go to Redwood Hall tomorrow, as Emily has arranged it. If Mrs. Rook is not there, you must ask for her address in Scotland. If nobody knows the address, you must still bestir yourself in trying to find it. And, when you do fall in with Mrs. Rook--” “Well?” “Take care, wherever it may be, that you see her privately.” Mirabel was alarmed. “Don’t keep me in suspense,” he burst out. “Tell me what you propose.”