vicar was sitting there with a paper in his
hand.

"Is there news?" cried Mr. Plew,
eagerly.

The vicar's face showed a strange agitation:
an agitation different from the first
emotions of surprise and alarm which he
had exhibited on learning that his daughter
was not to be found.

"Yes," he said; "there is news. I am
—happy—thankful—that Veronica is in
safety. It has been a false alarm—a—a
mistake. I am quite relieved."

"Thank God!" cried the surgeon,
fervently.

Mr. Levincourt tried to speak with some
degree of self-control. His hand shook, and
his features twitched.

"I have cause to be thankful," he began,
and then suddenly broke down and turned
away. " Tell him what I wanted, Maud,"
he murmured in a stifled voice. Then he
bent his arms on the table, and bowed
his head, and hid his face in his hands.

"Will you do us the great kindness,"
said Maud, addressing the surgeon, "to
get rid of all those people? Thank them,
and say—what is fitting."

"But what am I to say?"

Maud glanced at the vicar, but seeing
him motionless, with his face buried in his
hands, she answered:

"Mr. Levincourt wishes them to be told
that Veronica is in perfect safety. There
is no cause for alarm. He has found a
letter from her."

"Impress upon them," murmured the
vicar, with still averted face, " that there
has been a—misunderstanding. If I had
seen the letter sooner——Miss Levincourt
did not leave my house without informing
me."

Mr. Plew, still hesitating, Maud made
an imploring gesture.

"Pray, pray, Mr. Plew, send those people
away!"

Mr. Plew proceeded to obey the vicar's
directions as well as he could. The poor
little man's heart was aching and his spirit
was troubled. At length he succeeded in
inducing the little crowd to depart. They
went unwillingly and with a perfect hunger
of unsatisfied curiosity. They would fain
have lingered in the kitchen to talk and to
hear, but old Joanna very unceremoniously
bade them begone, and was obdurate
towards all attempts at discussing the
question of Miss Veronica's departure.

"I know no more than my betters
chooses to tell me," said Joanna. " Thank
God the lass isn't murdered, nor any way
hurt, nor yet drowned, nor yet kidnapped.
That's all I know. And her father knows
where she is. And so I don't see as the
rest is any of our businesses."

"Mr. Plew," said the vicar, when the
surgeon, having knocked at the door of the
study, had been re-admitted by Maud:
"Mr. Plew, if I showed undue resentment
for what you said just now, I ask your
pardon."

"Oh, Mr. Levincourt! Don't, pray don't
speak of my pardon! But—Miss Desmond
said you had found a letter——"

"I have found a letter from my daughter,
and I am going to London to-night."

"To-night!"

"Yes."

"To meet Miss Levincourt?"

"To meet Miss Levincourt if possible.
I take Maud with me. I may be absent
some time, and she cannot remain here
alone. I shall place her under the
protection of her aunt, Lady Tallis, who is
in London. If you are asked about Miss
Desmond, I wish you to be able to say that
she, at least, is in safety."

There was a bitterness in the vicar's
tone as he spoke the last words, which
sent a pang through the surgeon's heart.
He was, as Joanna had called him, " a soft
little man."

"I hope," said he, wistfully, " that I may
be able to say so of Ve—of Miss
Levincourt too."

"Mr. Plew, I believe you are a sincere
friend, and that you wish well to us all,"
said the vicar, suddenly. ' ' I will trust you. ' *

"You may, Mr. Levincourt. I—of
course I knew all along that it was of no
use; and I never—scarcely ever—allowed
myself to feel anything like hope. She
was so superior in every way. But I am
not altogether selfish. Veronica's happiness
is very dear to me. It's all over
now, of course. But if—if there is
anything in the world I can do for you, or for
her, you may be sure I shall not flinch."

The vicar took the little man's hand.
"Ah!" he moaned, with the cruel candour
of a man absorbed in his own trouble: " it
might have been better if she had been
able to bring herself to care for you.
Anything would have been better than this!
She has run away, Mr. Plew;—run away
with that——" he checked himself, " with
Sir John Gale."

"I knew it!" cried the surgeon. " I
am not surprised." But his face grew
deadly pale as he spoke.