He would give her fair warning. "And when I get the warning," she said to herself, "I shall go far away from England. No place is safe here. For I would not drag him down--my noble, princely Adrian, who has searched for me, sorrowed for me, and who loves me still. I would not let him link his noble life with mine; the name that he bears must not be sullied by me. It shall not be said of the noblest of his race that he married a girl who had compromised herself. People shall not point to his wife and say, 'She was the girl who was talked about in the murder case.' Ah, no, my darling, I will save you from yourself--I will save you from the degradation of marrying me!" She spent the remainder of the day--her holiday--in forming plans for going abroad. It was not safe for her to remain in England; at some time or other she must be inevitably discovered. It would be far better to go abroad--to leave England and go to some distant land--where no one would know her. She had one friend who could help her in her new decision. Her heart turned gratefully to Dr. Chalmers. Heaven bless him--he would not fail her. She must tell him that she was not happy--that a great danger threatened her; and she must ask him to help her to procure some situation abroad. Nor would she delay--she would write that very day, and ask him to begin to make inquiries at once. Soon all danger would be over, and she would be in peace. The long day passed all too quickly, she was so busy with her plans. It was late in the evening when she heard the carriage return, and soon afterward she knew that Adrian was once more under the same roof. Veronica Dartelle was not in the most sunny of tempers. She had spent a long day with Lord Chandon, yet during the whole of it he had not said a word that gave her the least hope of his ultimately caring for her, while she liked him better and better every day. She wondered if that "tiresome girl" was really the cause of his indifference, or if there was any one else he liked better. "Perhaps," she thought to herself, "I have not beauty enough to please him. I hear that this girl he loved was very lovely." An aversion to all beautiful girls and fair women entered her mind and remained there. She was tired--and that did not make her more amiable; so, when Kate Mansfield came in with her story, Veronica was in the worst possible mood to hear it. "What are you saying, Kate?" she cried, angrily. "It cannot be possible--Miss Holte would never go to meet a servant. You must be mistaken." "I am not, indeed, Miss Dartelle. I thought it my duty to mention it to you. They were talking for more than half an hour, and Miss Holte had her hands clasped, as though she were begging and praying him about something." "Nonsense," said Miss Dartelle--"you must be mistaken. What can Miss Holte know of Lord Chandon's servant?" Even as she said the words a sudden idea rushed through her mind. "What if the servant was taking some message from his master?"