We must return for a few minutes to Foxwood Court. Miss Blake got back by an early afternoon train as she had intended, and found some visitors with Lady Andinnian. It was old General Lloyd from Basham with two of his daughters. They were asking Lady Andinnian to take luncheon with them on the morrow, and accompany them afterwards to the flower-show that was to be held at the Guildhall. Sir Karl and Miss Blake were included in the invitation. Lucy promised: she seemed worn and weary with her solitude, and she loved flowers greatly. For Sir Karl she said she could not answer: he was in London for the day: but she thought it likely he would be able to accompany her. Miss Blake left it an open question: St. Jerome's was paramount just now, and to-morrow was one of its festival-days. They dined alone, those two, Sir Karl not having returned for it: and, in spite of troubles, it seemed very dull to Lucy without her husband. "Did you know Sir Karl was going to London?" asked Miss Blake. "Yes," said Lucy; "he told me this morning. He had business with Plunkett and Plunkett." Miss Blake suddenly pushed her hair from her forehead as if it troubled her, and bit her lips to enforce them to silence. After dinner Miss Blake went out. Tom Pepp, who was appointed bell-ringer to St. Jerome's, in his intervals of work, had played truant at Matins in the morning and wanted looking up; so she went to do it. This bell was a new feature at St. Jerome's, and caused much talk. It was hung over the entrance-door, communicating with a stout string inside: which string Tom Pepp had to pull--to his intense delight. When Miss Blake got back, Lucy was still alone. The evening passed on, and Sir Karl did not come. Soon after nine o'clock a telegraphic dispatch arrived from him, addressed to Lady Andinnian. Her heart beat a little faster as she opened and read it. "I cannot get my business done to-night, and must sleep in town. Shall be home to-morrow." "I wonder what business it is that is detaining him?" spoke Lucy, mechanically, after handing the dispatch to Theresa, her thoughts bent upon her absent husband. Theresa Blake was trembling to her fingers' ends. She flung down the dispatch after reading it, and flung after it a contemptuous word. The action and the word quite startled Lady Andinnian. "I'll tell you, Lucy; I'll tell you because you ought to know it," she cried, scattering prudence to the winds in her righteous indignation; scattering even all consideration touching Jane Shore, the pillory, the white sheet, and the lighted taper. "The plea of business is good to assume: very convenient! Sir Karl did not go to London alone this morning. That girl was with him." "What girl?" faltered Lucy. "She at the Maze. She with the angel face." Lucy slightly shivered. For a moment she made no comment. Her face turned ghastly.