interested in feudal antiquities) said they would sit behind, in the
"rumble"--rather than miss this unexpected treat. One, Two, and Three
caught the infection, and volunteered to be the escort on horseback.
Lady Lundie's celebrated "smile" (warranted to remain unaltered on her
face for hours together) made its appearance once more. She issued her
orders with the most charming amiability. "We'll take the guidebook,"
said her ladyship, with the eye to mean economy, which is only to be met
with in very rich people, "and save a shilling to the man who shows the
ruins." With that she went up stairs to array herself for the drive,
and looked in the glass; and saw a perfectly virtuous, fascinating, and
accomplished woman, facing her irresistibly in a new French bonnet!

At a private signal from Blanche, Arnold slipped out and repaired to his
post, where the roads crossed the road that led to the railway.

There was a space of open heath on one side of him, and the stonewall
and gates of a farmhouse inclosure on the other. Arnold sat down on
the soft heather--and lit a cigar--and tried to see his way through the
double mystery of Anne's appearance and Anne's flight.

He had interpreted his friend's absence exactly as his friend had
anticipated: he could only assume that Geoffrey had gone to keep a
private appointment with Anne. Miss Silvester's appearance at Windygates
alone, and Miss Silvester's anxiety to hear the names of the gentlemen
who were staying in the house, seemed, under these circumstances,
to point to the plain conclusion that the two had, in some way,
unfortunately missed each other. But what could be the motive of her
flight? Whether she knew of some other place in which she might meet
Geoffrey? or whether she had gone back to the inn? or whether she had
acted under some sudden impulse of despair?--were questions which Arnold