"Do you know what I would do if--if the squire had left me any money?" went on Jack, fiercely; "I would spend every penny of it in searching for her. I'd have a hundred--a thousand detectives at work. I'd never give them rest night or day till they found her." "And then?" said Leonard. Jack groaned and lit his pipe. Leonard looked at him. "I thought you had gone to call on Lady Earlsley," he said. Jack looked very much as if he really meant to knock him down, and marched off to bed. When he came in to breakfast the next morning Leonard noticed that he was dressed in proper walking attire, instead of the loose, free and easy, well-worn suit of cheviot, but he said nothing. Jack looked up. "You are staring at my get-up, Len. Well, I'll do it; but mind it is only to please you. What should I care what she thinks? though I ought to do it, I know. I'll call and thank her, and then let there be an end of it. I can't bear any chaff of that sort even from you, old fellow." Leonard nodded without a word, for he saw that the once frank face had lost its careless _sang froid_ expression, and looked harassed and even haggard. Jack smoked a pipe in silence, watching Leonard's rapidly moving pen; then, without a word, went out. Two hours later he came in, and with an air of relief and even a smile, said: "Well, I've done it, and it's over." "Well?" said Leonard, curiously. "Well, nothing; she wasn't at home," said Jack, triumphantly. "Not at home. What sort of a place was it?" "The best place in Park Lane," said Jack. "No end of flunkeys about, and the rest of it. Looks as if she rolled in gold, as she must do to have the place at all." "And you didn't see her?" asked Leonard. Jack colored and frowned. "What a curious beggar you are! Yes, I did see her; her carriage drove up just as I was going away." "And you spoke to her?" "No, I just raised my hat and walked away," said Jack, gravely. Leonard shrugged his shoulders. "She will think you a boor." "So I am," said Jack. "What does it matter? Tell me something about yourself. I am sick of myself. What have you been doing?" Leonard's pale face flushed. "I've been to Cheltenham Terrace," he said. "Well, did you see her?" "No," said Leonard, sadly. "I saw that the blinds in the upper windows were down, and I went to the next door, and asked if anyone was ill." "Well?" "Yes, her grandfather, old Mr. Treherne, was ill, they said, and I came away." "Well," said Jack, "at any rate you know where to find her--while I----" "I saw her shadow on the blind," said Leonard, simply. "I could swear to it among a hundred. I watched her beautiful profile for an hour in that railway carriage."