"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Mowbray with great emotion, "where will all this end? What an existence for Helen, for Rosalind? Is there no cure for this folly,--this madness on one side, and this infernal craft and hypocrisy on the other?" On hearing these words, Fanny uttered a cry which very nearly amounted to a scream, and running off towards the house with the fleetness of a startled fawn, left her brother in a state of irritation and misery such as he had never suffered before. The idea of seeing Sir Gilbert Harrington immediately had perhaps more comfort and consolation in it than any other which could have suggested itself, and the lanes and the fields which divided Oakley from Mowbray were traversed at a pace that soon brought the agitated young man to the baronet's door. "Is Sir Gilbert at home, John?" he demanded of an old servant who had known him from childhood; but instead of the widely-opened door, and ready smile which used to greet him, he received a grave and hesitating "I don't know sir," from the changed domestic. "Is Lady Harrington at home?" said Charles, vexed and colouring. "It is likely she may be, Mr. Mowbray," said the old man relentingly. "Will you please to wait one moment, Master Charles? I think my lady can't refuse--" Charles's heart was full; but he did wait, and John speedily returned, saying almost in a whisper, "Please to walk in, sir; but you must go into my lady's closet,--that's the only safe place, she says." "Safe?" repeated Charles; but he made no objection to the taking refuge in my lady's closet, and in another moment he found himself not only in the closet, but in the arms of the good old lady. "Oh!--if Sir Gilbert could see me!" she exclaimed after very heartily hugging the young man. "He's a greater tiger than ever, Charles, and I really don't know which of us would be torn to pieces first;--but only tell me one thing before I abuse him any more:--how long have you been at home?" "The coach broke down at Newberry," replied Charles, "and I did not get to Mowbray till nine o'clock last night." "Thank Heaven!" ejaculated Lady Harrington very fervently. "Then there's hope at least for you.--But what on earth can you say to me of my beautiful Helen? Three months, Charles, three whole months since she has been near me--and she knows I dote upon her, and that Sir Gilbert himself, untameable hyena as he is, has always been loving and gentle to her, as far as his nature would permit. Then why has she treated us thus? You can't wonder, can you, that he swears lustily every morning that ingratitude is worse than all the mortal sins put together?" "I dare not throw the charge back upon you, my dear lady; and yet it is being ungrateful for poor Helen's true affection to believe it possible that she should so long have remained absent from you by her own free will. You know not, dearest Lady Harrington, what my poor Helen has to endure."