“I thank you very much, indeed, Miss Brande. There is my mistress’s bell! I must go to her. Pray make yourself at home, Miss Brande. My mistress, I know, will be very happy to see _you_; and breakfast will be ready in a short time.” “I thank you, I breakfasted on board the vessel. Don’t let me detain you from Mrs. Estel.” “‘_Mrs. Estel!_’ She still calls her ‘Mrs. Estel!’ I wonder if she is in ignorance that my lady bears another name!” thought Susan, whose mind was still in the deepest perplexity. But before she could satisfy herself upon the point, she was startled by the second ringing of her lady’s bell, and hurried away to obey its summons. Barbara Brande called in her old servant, Amphy, who had been lingering in the hall, and scolded her for going bare-footed in the middle of October. “De Lor! Miss Barbra, chile, I likes to have my fut _cool_ on de soft groun’.” “Yes, your foot will be cool in the soft ground, if you go on so,” said Barbara. “I gwine _stop_ of it, honey, ’deed I is.” “If you _don’t_ it will stop _you_—that’s all. Now here—here are some goodies to comfort you and your old man these coming winter evenings,” said Miss Brande, giving her the canister, bottle and jars. “And in the boat below, you will find some winter clothing and some flannels rolled up together.” “Yes, honey—yes. Yes, chile, many thanks to you; and I’ll tend to it.” “Where is the old man?” “Gone down to de boat to see de boys, chile! ’Deed is de ole angel, honey!” Meanwhile Susan had passed into Lady Montressor’s room. “Susan, my girl, whose voice was that I heard in the parlor?” said her ladyship. “Miss Barbara Brande’s, my lady.” “Ah! she has come, then?” “Yes, my lady, this morning at sunrise.” “I believe I will rise, Susan, for I shall be glad to see Miss Brande.” “Yes, Madam,” replied Susan, so gravely that Lady Montressor looked at her, and observing for the first time her troubled expression of countenance, exclaimed— “Why, Susan, what is the matter with you, my girl?” “Miss Barbara did not come _alone_, my lady!” “Miss Barbara did not come alone? Well, I really do not suppose she did—but what of that?” “A great deal, dear lady.” “Good Heavens! Susan, what do you mean?” “Dear Lady Montressor, did the possibility never occur to you, that he who traced us from Exeter to Baltimore, might even trace us from Baltimore here?” “Oh! no, no, no. Oh! Heaven of Heavens, no! Do not say that, Susan! Do not tell me that Lord Montressor has followed us hither?” exclaimed the lady in an extremity of distress. “I wish, dear Madam, that I could say so; but that wouldn’t alter the facts; his lordship landed with Miss Brande this morning.” “Oh, fate, fate! Oh, fate, fate!” cried Lady Montressor, wringing her hands.