When they were at a safe distance from the study, Gertie, trembling and looking as shamefaced as though she were committing some awful crime, drew the strange woman’s letter from her poeket and gave it to Ruth. ‘I was to give you this,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I hope it wasn’t wrong to take it.’ Ruth took the letter, looking almost as guilty as Gertie. Were her husband’s suspicions justified after all? Was this some new trouble coming upon them? She put the letter in her pocket and went upstairs to her own room. She would not open it while Gertie was standing by. Alone in her bedroom, she turned the letter about and hesitated still. ‘Pshaw!’ she exclaimed, with a forced laugh. ‘What a goose I am! I dare say, after all, it’s somebody wants assistance.’ She opened the letter and read it. It was short, but there was enough in it to drive the blood from Ruth’s cheeks and make her tremble like an aspen-leaf. ‘Madam, ‘For your husband’s sake, and if you value his liberty, let me see you alone. If I cannot see you at the house when I call, meet me outside the lodge-gates at eight. It will be dark then. Do not delay, as I must return to London to-night. Show this to no one. All depends upon your secrecy. ‘A Friend.’ The letter fluttered down from Ruth’s trembling grasp on to the floor. What did it mean? Was it a trap? She had read of such things. No, the woman had asked at first openly to see her. She had come in the broad daylight and been refused. For her husband’s sake! What terrible secret was about to be revealed to her? She remembered now his wild words and the strange confessions he had poured out during his illness. She would know the worst. She made up her mind to go, and then the brave heart gave way. Surrounded on every side with mystery, her life, once so happy, had become almost a burden to her. She had hoped to be so happy with Edward, and everything had looked so bright once, and now—— Ruth Heritage buried her head in her hands and sobbed out an hysterical cry to heaven that God would guide her feet aright through the mazes of the rough, bleak road she and her husband were treading now. CHAPTER LX. A SECRET MEETING. The night was pitch dark. There was not even a star in the sky to look down upon Ruth Heritage as she crept quietly ont of her house and went swiftly down the walk towards the lodge gate. She was bound on an errand of love and mercy. She was going to see old Dame Huntley, the sexton’s widow, who lay dying down in the low-lying district, where the fever and ague had been busy of late. The servants knew that their mistress was bound to Dame Huntley’s, the squire knew it, and the lodge-keeper, who opened the gates, knew it, otherwise they might have wondered at Ruth going out alone at such a time. Outside the lodge gates the woman who had given Gertie the letter was waiting. Ruth trembled violently now. She half hoped the woman would not be there. Instinctively she paused.