It so chanced that a little volume of poems, lent to her by Lady Stephenson, had been left in the drawing-room, and Agnes, wishing to return it before leaving Cheltenham, entered the room to look for it. As a good many circulating-library volumes were lying about, it was some minutes before she found it; and just as she had succeeded, and was leaving the apartment, Miss Morrison appeared at the door. She had a letter in her hand, and a bustling, busy look and manner, which led Agnes to suppose that she had something of consequence to say to her aunt. "Shall I run up stairs and desire my aunt to come to you, Miss Morrison?" said she. "No, thank you, my dear ... you are very kind, but I think I had better go up to her; I only stepped in first to see if she was here.... She is very busy packing, I suppose, and perhaps I can help her." "Then you know, Miss Morrison, that she is going to London to-morrow?" said Agnes. "Oh! dear, yes: I believe it was I put it into her head first, ... and this is the letter she is to take to my brother. I am sure I hope she'll succeed with all my heart; and I should like to hear that Lord Mucklebury had ten thousand pounds to pay her for damages." "Damages!" repeated Agnes; "what for?" "What for, my dear child?.... Why, for having used her so abominably ill, to be sure ... there is nobody that saw them together as I did, but must have supposed he intended to marry her." "And if he has used her ill, Miss Morrison," said Agnes, looking greatly alarmed, "will it not be exposing herself still more if she goes to law about it? Indeed, Miss Morrison, you should not advise her to do anything so very wrong and disagreeable." "Don't blame me, my dear, I beg of you ... the idea was quite her own _toot a fay_, I assure you, and all I have done to further it was just writing this letter to my brother for her. He is a very clever lawyer, and I'm sure she could not do better." "It would be much better, Miss Morrison, if she did not do anything," said Agnes, while tears started to her eyes at the idea of this fresh exposure. "I don't think, my dear Miss Agnes, that you can be much of a judge," retorted the adviser. "However, as you do choose to give an opinion upon the subject, and seem to be so very much afraid that she should expose herself, I must just tell you that you owe it to me if she does not go galloping after Lord Mucklebury all the way to Rome.... She had the greatest possible inclination to do so, I assure you.... However, I think that I have put it out of her head by talking to her of damages.... But you are going down stairs, and I am going up ... so, good-bye.... Don't frighten yourself more than is needful; it is as likely as not that you will never be called into court.... _O revor!_"