"It can't be for Claire, Jo-si-ah, I'm sure," cried Mrs Barclay. "She wouldn't look at that miserable fop." "Suppose he is jackal for Rockley, old lady?" "Oh, Jo-si-ah, don't. It must be for her sister May." "No, I think not. She and Burnett have got on all right lately, and Payne hasn't been near her, that I know. Look here, old woman, I won't believe it if I can help it, but it looks very much as if Claire is really going off to-night." "Then she shan't," cried Mrs Barclay, beginning to cry. "If the poor girl has been worked upon just when she was poor and miserable, and has been weak enough to consent, she shall find she has got a friend who will stand by her, and give her good advice, and stop her. Jo-si-ah, I love that girl as if she was my own child--and--" "Well?" "I shall go down to their house and see her and talk to her, and I shall stop with her till I know she's safe. That is, mind, if it's true. But it ain't." "Well," said Barclay, "you shall do so, for I don't want her to go wrong. Only mind this, it is suspicious that she has not been near you lately." "Not it," said Mrs Barclay, "bless her! She's had some reason, and-- there, that's her knock, I'll swear." She ran out of the room, and came back directly with Claire, looking more pale and troubled than ever, leaning upon her arm. Mrs Barclay darted a triumphant look at her husband, and Barclay took Claire's hand in a grave distant manner that made the visitor wince. Volume Three, Chapter IV. MRS BARCLAY HAS HER TURN. Claire winced again, and involuntarily glanced at the door, repenting that she had come, as she saw Mrs Barclay frown and make a series of grimaces at her lord, all of which were peculiar enough to a stranger, but which simply meant to the initiated: "Go away and leave us together: I can manage her better than I could if you stayed here." Barclay comprehended from old experience all that his wife meant to signify, and, making some excuse, he shortly left the room. "There, that's right, my dear," said Mrs Barclay warmly. "Men are such a nuisance when you want to have a nice cosy chat. Why dear, dear, dear, how white you look. Your bonny face oughtn't to be like that. You've been wherriting yourself over something. It isn't money, is it?" "No, Mrs Barclay, we seem to have been a little better off lately." "But you are in trouble, my darling? Now don't say you aren't, but speak out plain to me. Oh, I wish I could make you believe that I am a very, very true friend, and that I want to help you. There, I know: you've been falling out with Cora Dean." Mrs Barclay prided herself on this as being a master stroke of policy to draw Claire out and make her ready to confide in her; but Claire shook her head and smiled sadly. "No," she said dreamily, "I am not in trouble about that. I thought I would call and see you to-day. There, I must go now."