"Nonsense! As if that would settle anything! No! I do not see my way to any further step at this moment. Sooner or later something will turn up to throw light on the subject . . . Remember, Lettice, though I do not actually believe you guilty, I am very much displeased. More, I am disappointed in you. There is a want of straightforwardness in your conduct, which I could not have expected. You are not treating me as I have a right to be treated. If a mystery exists, I ought to be told what it is: and if you did not take the bank-note, as I believe you did not—you ought to avow your innocence. Until you can resolve to show me your old frankness, I cannot feel my old confidence in you." She said "No" in a low voice, her lips quivering. "To-day I will not press you further. You are not quite fit for it, physically. But, understand—while this mystery lasts, things cannot be between us as they have been." Dr. Bryant passed out of the room with a heavy and grieved step, Theodosia following. Lettice sat alone, wondering wearily whether the shadow would ever be lifted. She could see no way out of the trouble. Wondering, too, in what manner Dr. Bryant meant to make a change. She had always been used to go to his study at half-past ten, to see if he wanted any little thing done—a letter copied: a bookshelf or a cabinet arranged. Such small services had been the delight of her heart. But would he expect her this day? Might she venture to go as usual? She tried to weigh the question, to consider what ought to be done: and found it difficult to come to any conclusion. Just before the half-hour, after long hesitation, she rose mechanically, unable to resist; and then she saw Dr. Bryant pass the window, equipped for a walk. It was an hour when ordinarily he never went out . . . Lettice understood, and she burst into a flood of tears. [Illustration: "While this mystery lasts, things cannot be between us as they have been."] CHAPTER XII. FOUND! AND WHERE! AS days went on, however, Theodosia was not satisfied. She had had her will: but results did not shape themselves according to her expectations. The money was still lost—so far as Dr. Bryant was concerned—and suspicion pointed its finger direct at Lettice. Moreover, Lettice still declined to refute that suspicion by denial. Yet the separation between her husband and Lettice, for which Theodosia craved, had not come about. Though the Doctor called himself "displeased" with Lettice, it was a calm and affectionate displeasure, devoid of heat; rather indeed an acknowledgment of what he ought to feel, than a showing of what he really felt. He did not believe that Lettice had helped herself to the money: he only thought she had not treated him with becoming openness: and he said so to his wife, plainly. No arguments shook his opinion.