His words and manner were painfully earnest and truthful, and Mrs. Seymour hesitated. "Has there been any mistake, Eleanor?" she hesitated, appealing to her daughter. "Oh, let me know what it is," he implored, before Eleanor could speak. "Whatever it may be--mistake--cause--reality--let me know it." "Well, sir," cried Mrs. Seymour, making a sudden resolution, "I will first ask you what you have done with that unfortunate young lady, whom you took away from her sheltering roof and her duties, three days ago?" "I took no young lady away," replied Mr. Marlborough. "What have you done with Miss Darling?" "Not anything." "You did not induce her to elope with you? You did not take her to London?" "Indeed, no. I saw Miss Darling on the port the evening I went away, and left her there. She was with her brother. But this is no explanation, Mrs. Seymour. Eleanor," he added, walking up, and standing before her, "I once again appeal to you. What was the cause of your first and sudden coldness?" "Speak out, Eleanor," said her mother. "I know almost as little as Mr. Marlborough, but I now think the matter should be cleared up, that we may come at the truth. There must be a strange mystery somewhere." Eleanor pressed her thin hands upon her side in agitation. She could only speak in a whisper, in uneven sentences: and she told of the love-letter written to Rose the day following the dance at Sir Sandy Maxwell's. "It was written to you, Eleanor," said Mr. Marlborough. "I read that note," she answered, gasping for breath. "It was written to Rose." "It was written to you, Eleanor. I have never written a loving note, as that was, to Rose Darling in my life; on my sacred word of honour." "You have written several notes to Rose!" "True; since; but never loving ones: they might all have been posted up on the schoolroom walls, and even Madame de Nino herself could not have found fault with them. If this note was given to Rose, Anna must have changed the envelopes. I remember directing one for her to Miss Darling that morning. Eleanor," he gravely said, "I fear you have been running your head against a chimera." "Rose loves you," she whispered, her heart and voice alike softening. "No; nonsense!"--but for all his denial there was a glow of consciousness on Mr. Marlborough's countenance. "Eleanor, I honestly believe that you have been listening to the folly talked by those schoolgirls, and taken it for gospel. Rose Darling is very pretty, and likes to be admired; and if I have been thrown a good deal with her, who threw me? You, Eleanor, by your coldness and avoidance of me. I don't deny that I have talked lightly and gaily with Rose, never seriously; I don't deny that----" I have kissed her, he was going to add in his candour, but thought it might be as well to leave that out before Mrs. Seymour. "But my love and my allegiance have never swerved from _you_, Eleanor." She burst into happy tears. Mrs. Seymour cut them short sternly.