servants. She might come in, poor thing, instead of standing there in
the rain."

"Poor thing, indeed!--what business has any woman to watch a house in
this marked manner?" retorted Eliza. "The neighbourhood will be taking
her for a female detective."

"Nonsense!"

"She has given me a creepy feeling; I can tell you that, Philip."

"But why?" he exclaimed.

"I can't tell you why; I don't know why; it is so. Do not laugh at me
for confessing it."

Philip Hamlyn did laugh; heartily. "Creepy feelings" and his imperiously
strong-minded wife could have but little affinity with one another.

"We'll have the curtains drawn, and the lights, and shut her out," said
he cheerily. "Come and sit down, Eliza; I want to show you a letter I've
had to-day."

But the woman waiting outside there seemed to possess for Eliza Hamlyn
somewhat of the fascination of the basilisk; for she never stirred from
the window until the curtains were drawn.

"It is from Peveril," said Mr. Hamlyn, producing the letter he had
spoken of from his pocket. "The lease he took of Peacock's Range is not
yet out, but he can resign it now if he pleases, and he would be glad to