A fortunate chance revealed to Seth Dumbrick the knowledge of the Duchess's flight many hours before she intended him to become acquainted with it. Both he and Sally had observed a strange and unaccountable excitement in the Duchess's manner, and had spoken of it in confidence to each other. She had been absent twice during the day, and when on the second occasion she returned, her restlessness was so marked that it communicated itself to her friends. It was not without fear, nor without some sense of the ingratitude of the act, that the Duchess prepared secretly for flight, and more than once her courage almost failed her; but she fortified herself with the reflection that she could return at the last moment if she wished, and that she had time before her to retract. She had no real love for Ned Chester. She liked him, and had been led away by his attentions and flatteries, by the handsome presents he had given her, and by the belief that he was rich and a gentleman. All the sentiment that the future contained for her was that she would be able to live like a lady. In all other respects the page was blank, and her history would be written from experiences to come. Early in the afternoon there was a heavy fall of snow, which, from appearance, bid fair to continue through the night. In the midst of the storm, the Duchess stole away from Rosemary Lane. Within half a mile from home she entered a cab, as she believed unobserved. But Sally, who was at that moment returning from the establishment which supplied her with needlework, saw the Duchess's face, as the cab drove swiftly off. The truth flashed upon her instantly; the Duchess had gone away from them for ever. Wringing her hands in despair, she ran after the cab, but it was soon out of sight, and seeing the hopelessness of pursuit she retraced her steps, and ran swiftly to Rosemary Lane to acquaint Seth Dumbrick with the circumstance. Mention has frequently been made of Mrs. Preedy. To this woman the Duchess had entrusted a letter accompanied with a bribe, and the instruction that it was not to be delivered to Seth until the following morning. In the course of the few anxious minutes which Seth (after hearing what Sally had to tell him) devoted to the endeavour to discover a clue in Rosemary Lane, he came across Mrs. Preedy. It needed no great shrewdness on his part to suspect, from the woman's important manner, that she had something to impart, and with a small exercise of cunning he extracted the letter from her. The mere receipt of it filled him with alarm. He hurried to his cellar, with Sally at his heels. "I wouldn't open it before the neighbours," he said to Sally, "for the Duchess's sake. They're only too ready to talk, and take away a girl's character." With this he opened the letter. The words were few: