So Evereld was taken straight to her friend, and then while Mrs. Magnay herself kindled the wood fire, and daintily piled up fir-cones to catch the blaze, Bride made her rest in the snuggest of easy chairs, and she had very soon told them the whole story. “I know nothing of English law,” said Mrs. Magnay. “Are you sure you can put yourself under the protection of the Lord Chancellor?” “I think so,” said Evereld. “Don’t you remember, Bride, how we used to tease you about your answer in that examination we had, when you wrote--‘The Lord Chancellor must be a very busy man for Blackstone says he is the natural guardian of all orphans, idiots and lunatics.’” “To be sure I do,” said Bride laughing. “Well if Blackstone says so, you must surely be right.” “I will go and talk over matters with my husband, and see what he advises, and in the meantime, Bride, I strongly advise you to put Evereld to bed. She looks to me quite tired out. Rest and forget your troubles, dear. No one can molest you at Mabillon, and you say that Sir Matthew can have no clue to your whereabouts.” “No, he will naturally think I have gone to Mrs. Hereford, or to my old governess at Dresden,” said Evereld. “To-morrow I must write to Mrs. Hereford and ask her to let Ralph know that I am safe. I am so afraid he may hear that I have disappeared and be anxious about me.” “Write to him,” said Bride, “and let Doreen forward your letter.” In the meantime Mrs. Magnay told the whole story to her husband, and it was decided that he should put the case straight into the hands of a London solicitor. Evereld, being consulted as to the one she would prefer, unhesitatingly named Ralph’s old friend Mr. Marriott of Basinghall Street, and as Claude Magnay knew that she could not have mentioned a more trustworthy and efficient man he wrote to him and made her on the following morning also write with a full description of all that had passed, of her suspicions with regard to her fortune and of her wish for a thorough investigation of her affairs. CHAPTER XXVIII “No action whether foul or fair, Is ever done, but it leaves somewhere A record, written by fingers ghostly, As a blessing or a curse, and mostly In the greater weakness or greater strength Of the acts that follow it, till at length The wrongs of ages are redressed, And the justice of God made manifest.” The Golden Legend.