"Because, madam, I had business yesterday of the very last importance with Mr. Verrall. He made the appointment himself, for three o'clock. I went at three: and could not find him. I went at four, and waited an hour, with a like result. I went again at seven, and then I was told that Mr. Verrall had been telegraphed for to his country seat, and had started. I had some difficulty in finding out where his country seat was situated, but I succeeded in doing that: and I followed him in the course of the night." "How very unfortunate!" exclaimed Charlotte, who had obtained her clue. "He was telegraphed for yesterday, and arrived in answer to it, getting here very late last night. But he could not stay. He said he had business to attend to in London, and he left here this morning by an early train. Will you oblige me with your name?" she added. "My name, madam, is Appleby. It is possible that you may have heard Mr. Verrall mention it, if, as I presume, I have the honour of speaking to Mrs. Verrall." Charlotte did not undeceive him. "When did you see Mr. Verrall last?" she suddenly inquired, as if the thought had just struck her. "The day before yesterday. I saw him three times that day, and he made the appointment for the following one." "I am so sorry you should have had a useless journey," said Charlotte, with much sympathy. "I am sorry also," said the stranger. "Sorry for the delay this causes in certain arrangements; a delay I can ill afford. I will wish you good morning, madam, and start back by the first train." Charlotte touched the bell, and curtsied her adieu. The stranger had the door open, when he turned round, and spoke again. "I presume I may entirely rely upon what you tell me--that Verrall _has_ gone back?" "Oh, certainly," answered Charlotte. Now, every syllable of this colloquy had reached the ears of George Godolphin. It puzzled him not a little. Were there _two_ Verralls? The Verrall of the Folly, with whom he had so recently exchanged words, had certainly not been in London for a fortnight past, or anywhere else but in that neighbourhood. And what did Charlotte mean, by saying he had gone to town that morning? Charlotte came in, singing a scrap of a song. She started when she saw George, and then flew to him in a glow of delight, holding out her hands. What could he do, but take them? What could he do, but draw Charlotte down beside him on the sofa, holding them still? "How pleased I am to see you!" exclaimed Charlotte. "I shall think the dear old times are coming round again." "Charlotte mia, do you know what I have been obliged to hear? That interesting colloquy you have been taking part in in the next room." Charlotte burst into a laugh. From the moment when she first caught a glimpse of George, seated there, she had felt sure that he must have heard it. "Did I do it well?" she cried, triumphantly. "How could you invent such fibs?"