Mrs. Brightman rose at once: she was going for a drive. After what had just passed, I held out my arm to her with some hesitation. She put the tips of her fingers within it, with a stiff "Thank you," and we walked to the gate in silence. I handed her into the open carriage; Hatch disposed the cloak upon her knees, assisted by the footman. With a cold bow, Mrs. Brightman, who had already as coldly shaken hands with me, drove away. Hatch, always ready for a gossip, stood within the little iron gate while she spoke to me. "We be going away for a bit, sir," she began. "Did you know it?" "No. Mrs. Brightman has not mentioned the matter to me." "Well, we be, then," continued Hatch; "missis and me and Perry. Mr. Close have got her to consent at last. I don't say that she was well enough to go before; Close thought so, but I didn't. He wants her gone, you see, Mr. Charles, to get that fancy out of her head about master." "But does she still think she sees him?" "Not for the past few days," replied Hatch. "She has changed her bedroom, and taken to the best spare one; and she has been better in herself. Oh, she'll be all right now for a bit, if only----" "If only what?" I asked, for Hatch had paused. "Well, you know, sir. If only she can control herself. I'm certain she is trying to," added Hatch. "There ain't one of us would be so glad to find it got rid of for good and all as she'd be. She's put about frightfully yet at Miss Annabel's knowing of it." "And where is it that you are going to?" "Missis talked of Cheltenham; it was early, she thought, for the seaside; but this morning she got a Cheltenham newspaper up, and saw that amid the company staying there were Captain and Lady Grace Chantrey. 'I'm not going where my brother and that wife of his are,' she says to me in a temper--for, as I dare say you've heard, Mr. Charles, they don't agree. And now she talks of Brighton. Whatever place she fixes on, Perry is to be sent on first to take lodgings." "Well, Hatch," I said, "the change from home will do your mistress good. She is much better. I trust the improvement will be permanent." "Ah, if she would but take care! It all lies in that, sir," concluded Hatch, as I turned away from the gate, and she went up the garden. * * * * * We must go back for a moment to the previous evening. Leaving behind us the church of St. Clement Danes and its lighted windows, Lake and I turned into Essex Street, arm-in-arm, went down it and reached my door. I opened it with my latch-key. The hall-lamp was not lighted, and I wondered at Watts's neglect. "Go on up to my room," I said to Lake. "I'll follow you in a moment." He bounded up the stairs, and the next moment Leah came up from the kitchen with a lighted candle, her face white and terrified. "It is only myself, Leah. Why is the lamp not alight?" "Heaven be good to us, sir!" she cried. "I thought I heard somebody go upstairs." "Mr. Lake has gone up."