“Did you hear my question, Mr. Scofield?” asked Lord Montressor, after a pause. “I beg pardon, my lord,” said the banker, in a tone and manner in which astonishment was modified by respect; “but I am unable to furnish you with her ladyship’s address. Lady Montressor has left England.” It was an overwhelming annunciation! Yet Lord Montressor neither started nor exclaimed; he was a man of too much firmness and self-control to do either, and perhaps also he had been too well prepared for it by what had preceded it; yet it was a stunning blow; he felt it so; he looked again and steadily, almost with rude scrutiny, into the face of John Scofield. Yes, he thought he could trust that face and confide in the rectitude and discretion of that man;—he knew also that the banker could not be really ignorant of the great trial lately concluded at the Exeter Assizes;—for the rest he must have faith in him. “Will you favor me with a few moments of private conversation, Mr. Scofield?” he inquired in a low voice. “Certainly, my lord,” replied the banker, dismissing his clerk, and closing and locking the door behind him. “Now, my lord, I am at your service,” he concluded, returning and resuming his seat. “You are of course aware, Mr. Scofield, of the painful scenes through which Lady Montressor—and myself,” (he added in that affectionate and generous spirit in which he ever wished to associate _himself_ in all that was distressing and humiliating in her life,)—“have lately passed.” “I am aware, my lord,” replied the banker, gravely and respectfully dropping his eyes. “But you do not know, perhaps, that Lady Montressor and myself have not passed one single moment alone together since our marriage; or that notwithstanding the perfect legality of the ceremony that binds us together, Lady Montressor considers it her Christian duty to reserve herself from my protection; and in order to do so effectually, has withdrawn herself from my knowledge. Now, I would know whither she has gone, if you, without a breach of confidence, can inform me.” The banker who had listened in respectful sympathy to the words of Lord Montressor, now paused and reflected before answering— “My lord, as Lady Montressor, of course, made no confidential communications to us, I do not know that any reason exists why I should not give you all the information upon this subject in my power.” “I will thank you then, sir, to proceed.” “The manner in which I learned that Lady Montressor was about to leave England was merely incidental, as my knowledge of her destination, is, I may say, barely inferential.” “Proceed, sir, proceed.” “Her ladyship came, early yesterday morning—much about this time, in fact,—to withdraw the funds she had in our hands. She required a portion of them in cash and the remainder in drafts upon some American house.”