butler appeared for a moment, then went in again. What did it mean? Was
Flora going to be taken to her father; or were these people, that woman
and her horrible nephew, about to carry her off somewhere? Fyne couldn't
tell. He doubted the last, Flora having now, he judged, no value, either
positive or speculative. Though no great reader of character he did not
credit the governess with humane intentions. He confessed to me naively
that he was excited as if watching some action on the stage. Then the
thought struck him that the girl might have had some money settled on
her, be possessed of some means, of some little fortune of her own and
therefore--

He imparted this theory to his wife who shared fully his consternation.
"I can't believe the child will go away without running in to say good-
bye to us," she murmured. "We must find out! I shall ask her." But at
that very moment the cab rolled away, empty inside, and the door of the
house which had been standing slightly ajar till then was pushed to.

They remained silent staring at it till Mrs. Fyne whispered doubtfully "I
really think I must go over." Fyne didn't answer for a while (his is a
reflective mind, you know), and then as if Mrs. Fyne's whispers had an
occult power over that door it opened wide again and the white-bearded
man issued, astonishingly active in his movements, using his stick almost
like a leaping-pole to get down the steps; and hobbled away briskly along
the pavement. Naturally the Fynes were too far off to make out the
expression of his face. But it would not have helped them very much to a
guess at the conditions inside the house. The expression was humorously
puzzled--nothing more.

For, at the end of his lesson, seizing his trusty stick and coming out
with his habitual vivacity, he very nearly cannoned just outside the