vanishing shillings, of which she knew he had no superfluity, and would have trumped her partner's best card half-a-dozen times over, had she but dared. Altogether, it was the dreariest of domestic evenings. The morning that followed was not much better; and never did mother receive a sincerer welcome from her offspring than did Lady Lisgard upon her return. The love-light danced in her eyes for a little at their genuine enthusiasm, but it soon died out, and they all observed how tired and worn she looked, how much more white and wan than when she had started from home. If Sir Richard had had the opportunity, I almost think he would have now acted upon his brother's suggestion, and spared his mother the sight of Mr Moss Abrahams' letter. But it was too late. Letty had herself taken possession of it; and when the first greetings were over, and all had had their say about the visitor of the day before, she put it into her mother's hand along with the other missives. “I don't know who your correspondents may be, dear mamma, but I should recommend one of them to apply to that gentleman who promises in the _Times_ newspaper to teach everybody a legible hand for four-and-sixpence; and when he has done that, he might learn a little spelling, such as _A, b, ab; e, y, by---Abbey_.” “I daresay it will wait till I go up stairs,” said my Lady with a faint smile; and she did not even look at it. Nay, when she had reached her room, and was alone with her maid, although she turned the letter round and round with hurried, anxious fingers, she did not open it even then, but gave it to Mistress Forest, saying piteously: “I am not sure about the handwriting. Is it his, or no, Mary?” “It is not his, madam.” “Thank Heaven for that!” cried my Lady, breaking the vulgar, sprawling seal, and rapidly possessing herself of the contents. “More trouble,” sighed she. “And yet, why should I sigh: this is only another reason to add to the budget in yonder desk for what I am about to do.” “That is well, dear madam, and bravely said,” answered the waiting-maid. “It is no use to court delay. Sooner or later, the blow must fall; if not to-day, then to-morrow. If he does not write, be sure, my Lady, that he will come himself; we must make up our minds for that. He cannot go to Coveton, and see my father--which is what I feel he intends to do--without discovering all; and since that must be, the sooner he does so the better. We are now prepared for the worst--for everything, in short, except suspense.” “That is true,” returned my Lady wearily. “Heaven help us!” “Amen,” exclaimed Mistress Forest encouragingly; “and I both hope and believe it will.” CHAPTER III. A JOURNEY ON FOOT.