Frances! What had she to do in the matter? Anne's curiosity was roused, and for once rightly, and in a just cause. She had long thought Frances bore no good feeling towards Miss Neville; perhaps she was jealous of her, for it was certain Amy had supplanted her in Charles's affection;--if he ever had any for her. Ah! that was it. It was all as clear as day to Anne now. But if it was as she suspected, Charles was, indeed, a fool to believe it; she was certain if she were in his place she would not, but then men were so easily convinced of a woman's falseness; but how could he look in Amy's eyes and believe it? Miss Neville a flirt? Impossible! But then Anne suddenly recollected how she had thought so herself, simply because she and Robert Vavasour had walked home together. No, after all she could not blame Charles so much, perhaps she should have thought the same. At all events, she determined to watch Frances closely when she gave her his message. "Charles wants to speak to you, Frances; he is in the dining-room." And Anne fixed her eyes full on her face as she spoke. But Frances was gaining experience every day; learning to attain a self-possession and control equal to any emergency. Only a faint--very faint, colour tinged her cheeks as she replied, "Charles must wait until I have finished reading this chapter; I am too interested to leave off in the middle of it." "Oh! very well. I will tell him so; but you will miss shaking hands with him, as he is going away." This time Anne succeeded. Frances' face expressed the utmost astonishment, while her cheeks paled to an almost marble whiteness. "Going away!" she gasped. "How? When?" "How? By the train I suppose. When? Now this moment. You had better come at once if you wish to see him." She followed Frances to the dining-room, and stood at the window while she went up to the fire where Charles stood. Anne watched them. He turned his face, still with the same gloomy, despairing expression, towards Frances and said a few words. What were they to cause her pale face to flush so hotly, while a proud, triumphant look shone brightly in her eyes? Anne would have given worlds to have heard them, certain as she was they contained some clue to the mystery shrouding his hasty departure. They were said, those few words, and he moved towards the door. Frances followed him after an instant's thought, and arrested his footsteps, slow and uncertain as they were. Anne could hear quite plainly now. "One moment, Charles. I am so sorry you are going," said Frances. "Never mind," he replied, "it is best I should go." "I suppose so. I suppose you must go?" "You know I must. You best of all others," he replied, sternly. "Alas! yes," was the reply.