"I think," said Mrs. Knox slowly, as if deliberating the point with herself, and in the most affectionate of tones, "that you would be happier in a single life, Arnold. One never knows what a wife is till she's tried." "Do you think so? Well, we must leave it to the future. What will be, will be." IV. And now I am taking up the story for myself; I, Johnny Ludlow. Had I gone straight on with it after that last night of Janet's sleep-walking at Miss Deveen's, you would never have understood. It was on the Saturday night that Janet was found out--as any one must remember who took the trouble to count up the nights and days. On the Sunday morning early, Miss Deveen's doctor was sent for. Dr. Galliard happened to be out of town, so Mr. Black attended for him. Cattledon was like vinegar. She looked upon Janet's proceedings as a regular scandal, and begged Miss Deveen's pardon for having brought her niece into the house. Upon which she was requested not to be silly. Miss Deveen told the whole tale of the lost bank-note, to me and to Helen and Anna Whitney: at least, as much as she knew of it herself. Janet was innocent as a child; she felt sure of that, she said, and much to be pitied; and that Mrs. Knox, of Lefford, seemed to be a most undesirable sort of person. To us it sounded like a romance, or a story out of a newspaper police-report. Monday came in; a warm, bright April day. I was returning to Oxford in the evening--and why I had not returned in the past week, as ought to have been the case, there's no space to tell here. Miss Deveen said we might go for a walk if we liked. But Helen and Anna did not seem to care about it; neither did I, to say the truth. A house with a marvel in it has attractions; and we would by far rather have gone upstairs to see Janet. Janet was better, quite composed, but weak, they said: she was up and dressed, and in Miss Deveen's own blue-room. "Well, do you mean to go out, or not, you young people?" asked Miss Deveen. "Dear me, here are visitors!" George came in bringing a card. "Dr. Knox." "Why!--it must be some one from that woman at Lefford!" exclaimed Miss Deveen, in an undertone to me. "Oh no; I remember now, Johnny; Dr. Knox was the step-son; _he_ was away, and had nothing to do with it. Show Dr. Knox in, George." A tall man in black, whom one might have taken anywhere for a doctor, with a grave, nice face, came in. He said his visit was to Miss Carey, as he took the chair George placed near his mistress. Just a few words, and then we knew the whole, and saw a small sealed-up box in his hand, which contained the remains of the bank-note. "I am more glad than if you brought Janet a purse of gold!" cried Miss Deveen, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Not that I think any one could have doubted her, Dr. Knox--not even your step-mother, in her heart,--but it is satisfactory to have it cleared up. It has made Miss Carey very ill; but this will set her at rest."