“My dear, how could you think of such a thing?” cried the prudent Mrs Atheling. “What could Miss Anastasia have to do with Louis? Why, she never so much as saw him, you know. You must, by no means, take foolish fancies into your head. I daresay, after all, he must belong to Lord Winterbourne.” Marian asked no more; but she did not fail to communicate her suspicions to Louis at the earliest opportunity. “I am quite sure,” said Marian, not scrupling even to express her convictions in presence of Agnes and Rachel, “that Charlie has gone abroad for something about you.” “Something about me!” Louis was considerably startled; he was even indignant for a moment. He did not relish the idea of having secret enterprises undertaken for him, or to know less about himself than Marian’s young brother did. “You must be mistaken,” he said, with a momentary haughtiness. “Charlie is a very acute fellow, but I do not see that he is likely to trouble himself about me.” “Oh, but it was Miss Anastasia,” said Marian, eagerly. Then Louis coloured, and drew himself up. His first idea was that Miss Anastasia looked for evidence to prove him the son of Lord Winterbourne; and he resented, with natural vehemence, the interference of the old lady. “We are come to a miserable pass, indeed,” he said, with bitterness, “when people investigate privately to prove this wretched lie against us.” “But you do not understand,” cried Rachel. “Oh, Louis, I never told you what Miss Anastasia said. She said you were to take the name of Atheling, because it meant illustrious, and because the exiled princes were named so. Both Marian and Agnes heard her. She is a friend, Louis. Oh, I am sure, if she is inquiring anything, it is all for our good!” The colour rose still higher upon Louis’s cheek. He did not quite comprehend at the moment this strange, sudden side-light which glanced down upon the question which was so important to him. He did not pause to follow, nor see to what it might lead; but it struck him as a clue to something, though he was unable to discover what that something was. Atheling! the youth’s imagination flashed back in a moment upon those disinherited descendants of Alfred, the Edgars and Margarets, who, instead of princely titles, bore only that addition to their name. He was as near the truth at that moment as people wandering in profound darkness are often near the light. Another step would have brought him to it; but Louis did not take that step, and was not enlightened. His heart rose, however, with the burning impatience of one who comes within sight of the goal. He started involuntarily with haste and eagerness. He was jealous that even friendly investigations should be the first to find out the mystery. He felt as if he would have a better right to anything which might be awaiting him, if he discovered it himself.