The moodiness and moroseness, the restlessness and irritability of Sir Charles had been peculiarly noticeable for some time after Lady Mitford had received Sir Laurence's letter, and they had not failed to receive the imprecations of the servants'-hall. Lady Mitford had been aware that much information might have been obtained through that fruitful medium, but she would not at any time have deigned to have recourse to it; and would have shrunk from doing so with additional distaste just now, as she could not avoid perceiving that she was the subject of closer observation than usual on the part of the domestics, especially her own maid and Mr. Banks. One day, when Lady Mitford returned from her solitary drive, and having alighted from her carriage, was passing through the hall, she was encountered by Captain Bligh, coming quickly from the library. She saluted him courteously, and was about to pass on, when he begged to be permitted to speak with her. She acquiesced, and they went upstairs and into the long drawing-room. She knew in a moment that he had come to tell her bad news, and she nerved herself to bear it, whatever it might be, by a strong effort. He waited until she had seated herself, and then said: "I fear, Lady Mitford, I can hardly escape some share of your displeasure, incurred by my having undertaken the mission which has brought me here to-day." She looked at him, and turned very pale, but she remained quite silent and still. "You look frightened, Lady Mitford. Pray don't fear anything. There is much to grieve you, but no cause for alarm." "Sir Charles--" she stammered. "Sir Charles is well; there is nothing of that sort the matter. But I have a painful task to fulfil. Lady Mitford, are you aware that Sir Charles has left London?" She fell back in her seat, and deathlike cold crept through her. She did not faint, but a momentary sensation like fainting passed over her. Her eyes closed, and her hands grew cold and damp. It had come, then, the catastrophe! She was deserted; he had left England with that woman; and it was all over! She was to be alone, and he was utterly ruined; there was no hope, no rescue for him now! Captain Bligh was not a person adapted to act with discretion in a crisis of this kind. He did not understand women's ways, as he was accustomed to proclaim. He had a kind heart, however, and it supplied the deficiencies of his judgment. He merely handed Lady Mitford a scent-bottle, and waited until she had recovered herself. After a few moments she sat upright and opened her eyes. "That's right!" said the honest Captain encouragingly; "I knew you would bear it well; I knew you had such pluck. By Jove, I haven't forgotten the ponies!" "Tell me what you came to say, Captain Bligh," said Lady Mitford. "I am quite strong now;" and she looked so.