Mrs. Davison noticed the absence of mind with which he answered the next questions she put to him; and he, perceiving this and anxious not to betray what he thought or felt, exerted himself to reply and to conceal the effect made upon him by her statement about her daughter. But then she put a most disconcerting question. “Do you know Lady Jennings?” “Yes, slightly.” “You have met Rachel at her house?” “No, Miss Davison was not there when I called.” “When was that?” “It was about a week ago.” “Did you see any of her drawings?” “N-no,” answered Gerard nervously, knowing as he did that these same drawings appeared never to have been seen by mortal eye. “It’s most extraordinary,” prattled on Mrs. Davison, who was evidently, poor lady, delighted to have someone to break the monotony of the life which her daughter obliged her to lead, “that Rachel should have developed a talent for design, for there has never been any sort of artistic ability in the family, on either side. But I suppose when a girl is very clever, like my Rachel, her talent develops in any direction where it is most wanted.” To this theory Gerard could only make a somewhat vague reply, and Mrs. Davison laughed a little and apologized for talking about nothing but her children. “But,” went on the simple-hearted lady with feeling, “really the way in which my daughter has changed everything for us by her own strong will and her own exertions, is to me a marvel which shuts out everything else from my mind.” He congratulated her, and had tea with her, and enjoyed the society of the simple old gentle-woman, with a strange undefined hope in his mind all the while that Rachel, the brilliant, the puzzling, the mysterious, would some day develop upon the same lines, if with greater breadth of view and intelligence, as this kindly and feminine personality. Mrs. Davison let him go with evident regret and begged him to call on Lady Jennings and to give Rachel her love. Gerard received this tender message with a pang. It seemed to him to argue more mystery, and more undesirable secrecy, about Rachel’s mode of life, that her mother should not dare to go up to London to see her elder daughter, but should confide her messages to a chance visitor. He went back to town uneasier than ever about the girl whom, in spite of all that he had learned, he began to think that he admired more than ever. He had discovered beyond a doubt that she was capable of elaborate deceit, that she was pursuing some calling of which her relations and friends knew nothing; and yet, while he remembered the incident of the flashing ornament, and the further incident of the unknown man, he felt that he could not give her up, that he must find her out and know the truth about her.