“They must not know,” she said, slowly and thoughtfully, as if she were earnestly considering the question; “they must not know. Stop, Bessie”--for Bessie, aghast at the proposal, was about to remonstrate--“I have made up my mind. If all the world said I should not see him, I would contrive to do so. In Wainford jail?” She put her hand to her brow. “That is Colonel Summerford’s. He would do anything for me; he will not refuse to let me see him.” Her hands began to move restlessly, and she glanced at the clock with wistful impatience. “Oh, no, no; not to-day, miss,” pleaded Bessie. “You are not strong enough; you will be ill again, and--oh, not to-day, dear, dear Miss Olivia!” “I am quite strong,” said Olivia, rising and stretching out her hands. “How do I know that to-morrow may not be too late? We will go this afternoon--yes, this afternoon.” “But what can you do, miss?” gasped Bessie, who knew that when her mistress had made up her mind any further remonstrance would be useless. Olivia sighed heavily. “I do not know,” she said, looking from side to side with a troubled expression in her eyes. “I cannot tell--till I see him. I shall know then!” “Oh, dear!” breathed Bessie. “I am so afraid; you are so weak still.” “I am strong enough to walk to Wainford and back to help--him,” came the low but quick response. “But there is no need for that. Go down and order the brougham; say that I wish to go out for a drive--that I will have no one but you with me. No one need know where we are going. Afterward, I do not care who knows.” Then, as Bessie still stood hesitating and trembling, she turned upon her almost fiercely. “Did he stop to think of the consequences when you were in danger? Have you forgotten that?” Bessie’s face went crimson, and she flung up her hands before it; then, her face quite pale again, she looked at Olivia with a strange, intense reproachfulness, and left the room. At three o’clock Olivia, leaning on Bessie’s arm, went down the stairs. Notwithstanding her assertions, she felt very weak, and her limbs seemed to quiver and tremble. The brougham was at the door, and the squire stood ready to help her in, with a couple of thick wraps on his arm. “Are you sure you are strong enough, dear?” he asked, anxiously. “And will you not let me come with you?” She put her arm round his neck and kissed him. “No, dear; Bessie and I are going alone. Don’t be anxious; I am getting quite strong again now. Tell James to drive round the park.” The squire wrapped the shawls round her tenderly, and the brougham drove off. Olivia leaned back with her eyes closed for some minutes, but when the lodge had been left behind she sat up with a new life and eagerness in her eyes. “Tell him now to drive to the jail,” she said. Bessie gave the order, and the coachman, after a moment or two of inert astonishment, turned the horses’ heads. The brougham pulled up at the prison, and Olivia made ready to get out.