My uncle, after all, was not ill that day, after the strange fashion of his malady, be it what it might. Old Wyat repeated in her sour laconic way that there was 'nothing to speak of amiss with him.' But there remained with me a sense of pain and fear. Doctor Bryerly, notwithstanding my uncle's sarcastic reflections, remained, in my estimation, a true and wise friend. I had all my life been accustomed to rely upon others, and here, haunted by many unavowed and ill-defined alarms and doubts, the disappearance of an active and able friend caused my heart to sink. Still there remained my dear Cousin Monica, and my pleasant and trusted friend, Lord Ilbury; and in less than a week arrived an invitation from Lady Mary to the Grange, for me and Milly, to meet Lady Knollys. It was accompanied, she told me, by a note from Lord Ilbury to my uncle, supporting her request; and in the afternoon I received a message to attend my uncle in his room. 'An invitation from Lady Mary Carysbroke for you and Milly to meet Monica Knollys; have you received it?' asked my uncle, so soon as I was seated. Answered in the affirmative, he continued-- 'Now, Maud Ruthyn, I expect the truth from you; I have been frank, so shall you. Have you ever heard me spoken ill of by Lady Knollys?' I was quite taken aback. I felt my cheeks flushing. I was returning his fierce cold gaze with a stupid stare, and remained dumb. 'Yes, Maud, you _have_.' I looked down in silence. 'I _know_ it; but it is right you should answer; have you or have you not?' I had to clear my voice twice or thrice. There was a kind of spasm in my throat. 'I am trying to recollect,' I said at last. '_Do_ recollect,' he replied imperiously. There was a little interval of silence. I would have given the world to be, on any conditions, anywhere else in the world. 'Surely, Maud, you don't wish to deceive your guardian? Come, the question is a plain one, and I know the truth already. I ask you again--have you ever heard me spoken ill of by Lady Knollys?' 'Lady Knollys,' I said, half articulately, 'speaks very freely, and often half in jest; but,' I continued, observing something menacing in his face, 'I have heard her express disapprobation of some things you have done.' 'Come, Maud,' he continued, in a stern, though still a low key, 'did she not insinuate that charge--then, I suppose, in a state of incubation, the other day presented here full-fledged, with beak and claws, by that scheming apothecary--the statement that I was defrauding you by cutting down timber upon the grounds?' 'She certainly did mention the circumstance; but she also argued that it might have been through ignorance of the extent of your rights.' 'Come, come, Maud, you must not prevaricate, girl. I _will_ have it. Does she not habitually speak disparagingly of me, in your presence, and _to_ you? _Answer_.' I hung my head. 'Yes or no?' 'Well, perhaps so--yes,' I faltered, and burst into tears.