"Mrs Bolter--dear Mrs Bolter!" said Grey Stuart, solving the problem for them, as, in a tender, womanly way, she passed her arm round the determined little lady, and drew her to her breast, "you are angry and upset by your trouble; but you will--no--you cannot do this thing! You love dear Doctor Bolter too well to misjudge him. Pray, pray think of the pain it would give him, did he know that you had thought and spoken like this!" "And--and as I never did before--before--he came and--and disturbed my quiet life at home!" cried the little woman. "You--you are right, my darling! I--I couldn't do such a thing; and I wouldn't have said it only--only--I am half mad! Don't--don't recollect all this, Harley-- Captain Hilton! It is of course impossible! Go at once--and--bring him back to me, for this suspense is more than I can bear!" "We'll do our best," said the Resident. "There, cheer up. We'll forget all this, and so will you when our dear old friend is back. Tell him we wanted his help and counsel badly, but we could not wait. Tell him, too, that I share his suspicions." "Suspicions?" cried little Mrs Bolter, firing up once more. "Yes, on the subject we discussed," said the Resident, gravely, as he shook hands. "There, good-bye. Wish us success." "Yes, wish us success," said Hilton, taking her hand. "I pledge you my word that you are right in what you now think about the doctor, who is as true a little gentleman as ever breathed!" Poor little Mrs Bolter uttered a sob, and raised Hilton's hand to her lips and kissed it for the words he had uttered, for she dared not trust herself to speak! "Good-bye," said the Resident again. "All this is as good as dead, and quite forgotten!" "Yes, yes," said little Mrs Bolter. "You will keep a sharp look-out for dear Arthur. I feel sure he is wandering about somewhere, half-starved, but loaded with specimens that he has found." "Good-bye, Miss Stuart," said Hilton, in a low, grave voice, for he felt deeply moved, and his heart had seemed to swell within his breast as he looked on while she had seemed to lead and control her excited, passion-swayed friend. "Wish me success, for I shall try, while I have life, to restore to you your unfortunate friend." "Yes," she said, softly; and the sad tears stood in her eyes. "I wish you success." "Helen Perowne will need all your love and sympathy when we bring her back." "As I pray Heaven you will," she said, quietly. "You will have our constant prayers for your safety. Good-bye." "Good-bye." Their hands touched for a moment, and a thrill of misery flew to each heart. "How he must love her!" thought Grey. "Oh! Helen, how can you trifle with him as you do?" "I remember," thought Hilton, as he turned away, feeling as wretched as he had ever felt in his life, "that I used to read a little fable, when I was a child, about a dog and his shadow. I've been running after the shadow all this time, and I have lost the substance. Unlucky dog!"