“I do not know,” Lady Linton said, growing pale. “I met her yesterday on Oxford street, when she told me she had it, and would return it soon. If she has not opened the package, I am all right; if she has, and ever sees fit to betray me to Sir William, it will be a sad day for me.” “You were very foolish ever to commit to paper anything concerning that American escapade.” “I suppose I was, but I always keep a diary; there are many things of importance that I like to remember accurately, and a diary is so convenient to refer to—it has saved me many mistakes.” “It would have been far better if you had destroyed _that_ year’s notes, as I advised you,” returned Mrs. Farnum. “But it was full of important data, and I never dreamed that anything could happen to it—it was very careless of you to lose it,” said her ladyship, complainingly. “I know it was, and I have suffered a great deal of anxiety on account of it; for, of course, with all those names and dates, I am implicated almost as much as yourself. Why don’t you go around to her lodgings and get it at once?—your mind will be at rest then. If the seal has never been broken, you are as safe as if it had never been lost.” “True; I believe I will,” Lady Linton answered, brightening. She followed the advice of her friend the very next day, and, calling at Mrs. Alexander’s lodgings, was shown at once up to her private parlor. There was no one there when she entered, but presently Virgie came in, looking charming in her morning robe of mauve cashmere, with blue silk facings, and greeted her ladyship politely, although with some reserve. “You wished to see mamma,” she said, “but I am obliged to receive you as she is not in just now. Can I do anything for you, Lady Linton?” “I wished to see Mrs. Alexander personally,” returned Lady Linton, haughtily. “Will she return soon?” “I am afraid not. She had an engagement with Madame Gerbier, her modiste, at eleven, and one with her lawyer at one,” Virgie explained. Lady Linton thought a moment, then she said: “Mrs. Alexander told me, a day or two ago, that she had a package belonging to me; do you know anything about it?” “A package?” repeated Virgie, looking mystified; then she added, quickly, “Oh! perhaps it is that sealed package that mamma’s uncle found so long ago. Is that yours, Lady Linton?” “Yes. Sealed!—did you say it is _sealed_?” asked the woman, breathlessly. “Yes, it is sealed with a strange device and motto.” “And has it never been opened?” was the eager query. “Of course not; it is just as mamma’s uncle found it,” Virgie responded, with curling lips, and flushing indignantly at the implied suspicion of the woman. Lady Linton could have wept for joy. She was saved! her vile secrets were still all her own; and if she could but get that coveted diary into her possession once again, she had nothing to fear; she would burn it without a moment’s hesitation.