"At any rate, Dorothy, it is useless for you to try and puzzle out the truth; even if so be that you hit upon it, without farther evidence you could not satisfy yoursel' that it was so. But be sartin sure o' this, that mystery and concealment are generally used to cover crime. If Lord Wilton had acted rightly, he would not have been afraid of owning his wife to the world. Selfishness and sin must lie at some one's door, and women--the poor creatures--when they love, generally fling their all into the scale, regardless of consequences. "But there's the dinner-bell, my pet, father will be rampaging if he comes in and finds us talking here." After Dorothy had given Mrs. Rushmere her tea that evening, and got her comfortably to bed, she tripped across the dreary heath by the light of the July moon to see Mrs. Martin, and tell her all that had transpired. She found no one at home but Mr. Fitzmorris, who was walking up and down the lawn, with a closed book in his hand, in which he could no longer see to read. He looked up, as the little gate swung to, and came forward to meet her. "Oh, Mr. Fitzmorris, you are the very person I wanted to see. I am so glad to find you alone." He looked into the sweet face with an inquiring glance, but seemed suddenly struck with its unusual pallor. "Dorothy, something has happened to annoy you. I can read that face of yours like an open book. _You_ could not deceive any one." "I hope I may never be tempted to try. But oh, Mr. Fitzmorris, I was sorely tempted last night to do a very dishonourable thing." "And did the tempter succeed, Dorothy?" "No, though I had not the courage to say 'get thee behind me Satan.' But if you will sit down under this tree, I will tell you all about it, and the many anxious thoughts that are passing through my mind." "I am hardly old enough, Dorothy, to be a father confessor." "But I have as much confidence in you, Mr. Fitzmorris, as though you were as old as Methuselah." Gerard laughed heartily. "As you have inducted me into this office, Dorothy, make a clean breast of it." "But it is no laughing matter," quoth Dorothy, "I found it sad and serious enough." She then informed him of the contents of Lord Wilton's letter, and showed him the check for the fifty pounds, and the mysterious sealed packet. He listened very attentively. "It is too dark under the trees, Dorothy, to examine these important papers. Come with me into my study. There we shall be free from interruption." When once in the sanctum sanctorum, into which no one ever intruded but Mrs. Martin, and that only once-a-week, to dust the furniture and arrange his books and papers, the vicar lighted his candles, and bidding Dorothy take a seat in the big leather arm-chair, he went to the table and read Lord Wilton's letter. To Dorothy's great surprise, he made no comment on its contents. "You wish me to take charge of this packet?" he asked.