"Where _is_ Mr. Markham?" asked Diana, receiving the letter with a trembling hand. "He is now in Bow-street Police-Office, ma'am: in the course of the day he will be in Newgate;"--and the old butler wiped away a tear. "Good heavens!" exclaimed Diana; "then it is really too true!" She immediately tore open the letter, and ran her eye over the contents, which were as follow:-- "The villany of one of the individuals with whom you are constantly associating, and in whom it has been my misfortune to place unlimited confidence, will perhaps involve you in an embarrassment similar to the one in which I am now placed. I cannot, I do not for one moment imagine that you are in any way conversant with their vile schemes:--I can read your heart; I know that you would scorn such a confederacy. Your frankness, your candour are in your favour: your countenance, which is engraven upon my memory, and which I behold at this moment as if it were really before me, forbids all suspicions injurious to your honour. Take a timely warning, then: take warning from one who wishes you well: and dissolve the connexion ere it be too late. "R. M." "When shall you see your master again?" enquired Diana of the butler, after the perusal of this letter. "To-morrow, ma'am--with the blessing of God." "My compliments to him--my very best remembrances," said Mrs. Arlington; "and I feel deeply grateful for this communication." Whittingham bowed, and rose to depart. "And," added Diana, after a moment's pause, "if there be anything in which my humble services can be made available, pray do not hesitate to come to me. Indeed, I hope you will call--often--and let me know how this unfortunate business proceeds." "Then you don't believe that Master Richard is capable of this obliquity, madam?" cried the butler. "Oh! no--impossible!" said Diana emphatically. "Thank 'ee, ma'am, thank 'ee," exclaimed Whittingham: "you have done my poor old heart good. God bless you, ma'am--God bless you!" And with these words the faithful dependant took his departure, not a little delighted to think that there was at least one person in the world who believed in the innocence of "Master Richard." In fact, the kindness of Diana's manner and the sincerity with which she had expressed herself on that point, effectually wiped away from the mind of the butler the reminiscences of Mac Chizzle's derogatory suspicions, and Suggett's impertinence. After a few minutes' profound reflection, Diana returned to the drawing-room, where Sir Rupert Harborough, Mr. Chichester, and Talbot were seated. Her fine countenance wore an expression of melancholy seriousness; and there was a nervous movement of the under lip that denoted the existence of powerful emotions in her bosom. "Well, Di.," exclaimed the baronet; "you seem annoyed." "You will be surprised, gentlemen, when I inform you who has been here," she said, resuming her seat upon the sofa.