Myles was gratified that he could at once satisfy the deep yearning that lay at his heart--to ask after Adrienne--and at the same time do what was natural and to be expected; for who, if not her uncle’s old servant, should know anything about her? He therefore inquired. ‘Do you ever hear anything of Miss Blisset now, since Mr. Blisset’s death?’ Brandon looked surprised. ‘Hear of her, sir! I’m in her service.’ ‘In her service?’ repeated Myles mechanically. ‘Yes, when my late master died, Miss Blisset was good enough to say that she particularly wished me to remain with her, unless I had other views, which I had not. I have served her and her family for thirty years, and I hope never to serve any other.’ ‘I had no idea you had remained with her. I am glad to hear it. She must require a person to--an old servant, who will be like a friend to her as well.’ ‘Miss Blisset was so kind as to say, when she asked me to remain, that she looked upon me as a friend. My wife and I are the only servants she has.’ ‘Ah! How is Miss Blisset--or rather, how was she when you left her?’ ‘She was quite well, sir, thank you.’ ‘Does she live in England?’ ‘At present she is living in London, and we have been at Florence and Dresden.’ ‘Indeed! Does she mean to stay in London?’ ‘I think she will stay until autumn. Then she is going abroad with some friends. I am not sure where, but I think to Italy. Most likely she will take either my wife or me with her, and leave the other behind.’ ‘Then she does not think of coming to Thanshope at all?’ ‘No. Her lease of this house expires directly, and she is not going to renew it. She has seen Mr. Mallory in London, and made arrangements to give it up. I have come to see about storing the furniture.’ ‘Yes. When shall you be returning?’ ‘In about three days, sir, I expect.’ ‘The house will then be empty.’ ‘Yes.’ There was a pause. Myles’s heart was beating. Brandon was looking at him inquiringly, as if he awaited some further word or some message to be delivered to his mistress. But Myles dared not send any message. He could not forget how he had ignored her own message to him, though head and heart alike cried out that he was wrong. In ordinary concerns he was clear-headed and practical enough: where his love for Adrienne stepped in, his nature seemed changed; he became timid, nervous, and lost all self-confidence. To have sent a mere conventional phrase of compliments or kind regards, would, it seemed to him, have been deliberate, insolent bravado--after what had passed. If he could have seen her, if she would have spoken to him, he might have confessed his fault and begged her pardon; but there was no word, no message that he could send through even the most trusted of old servants--through any third person.