Her young lady had walked up to Brandon, taking the little girl with her, and she supposed would be back again early. Mr. Larkin eyed her for a second to ascertain whether she was telling lies. He always thought everyone might be lying. It was his primary impression here. But there was a recluse and unearthly character in the face of the crone which satisfied him that she would never think of fencing with such weapons with him. Very good. Mr. Larkin would take a short walk, and as his business was pressing, he would take the liberty of looking in again in about half-an-hour, if she thought her mistress would be at home then. So, although the weird white woman who leered after him so strangely as he walked with his most lordly air out of the little garden, and down the darkening road towards Gylingden, could not say, he resolved to make trial again. In the meantime Rachel had arrived at Brandon Hall. Dorcas--whom, if the truth were spoken, she would rather not have met--encountered her on the steps. She was going out for a lonely, twilight walk upon the terrace, where many a beautiful Brandon of other days, the sunshine of whose smile glimmered only on the canvas that hung upon those ancestral walls, and whose sorrows were hid in the grave and forgotten by the world, had walked in other days, in the pride of beauty, or in the sadness of desertion. Dorcas paused upon the door-steps, and received her sister-in-law upon that elevation. 'Have you really come all this way, Rachel, to see _me_ this evening?' she said, and something of sarcasm thrilled in the cold, musical tones. 'No, Dorcas,' said Rachel, taking her proffered hand in the spirit in which it was given, and with the air rather of a defiance than of a greeting; 'I came to see my brother.' 'You are frank, at all events, Rachel, and truth is better than courtesy; but you forget that your brother could not have returned so soon.' 'Returned?' said Rachel; 'I did not know he had left home.' 'It's strange he should not have consulted you. I, of course, knew nothing of it until he had been more than an hour upon his journey.' Rachel Lake made no answer but a little laugh. 'He'll return to-morrow; and perhaps your meeting may still be in time. I was thinking of a few minutes' walk upon the terrace, but you are fatigued: you had better come in and rest.' 'No, Dorcas, I won't go in.' 'But, Rachel, you are tired; you must come in with me, and drink tea, and then you can go home in the brougham,' said Dorcas, more kindly. 'No, Dorcas, no; I will not drink tea nor go in; but I _am_ tired, and as you are so kind, I will accept your offer of the carriage.' Larcom had, that moment, appeared in the vestibule, and received the order. 'I'll sit in the porch, if you will allow me, Dorcas; you must not lose your walk.' 'Then you won't come into the house, you won't drink tea with me, and you won't join me in my little walk; and why not any of these?' Dorcas smiled coldly, and continued,