I had better come here," he observed. "She said bad news had arrived
for Mr. Channing."

"Yes," answered Hamish. "The lawsuit is lost."

"Lost!" echoed Mr. Yorke.

"Irrevocably. We were discussing ways and means amongst ourselves,"
said Hamish, "for of course this changes our prospects materially."

"And Constance is going out as a governess, if she can find any one to
take her, and Arthur is to plod on with Joe Jenkins, and Tom means to
apply for the post of bell-ringer to the cathedral," interposed the
incorrigible Annabel, who had once more darted in, and heard the last
words. "Can you recommend Constance to a situation, Mr. Yorke?"

He treated the information lightly; laughed at and with Annabel; but
Constance noticed that a flush crossed his brow, and that he quitted
the subject.

"Has the inked surplice been found out, Tom,--I mean the culprit?"

"Not yet, Mr. Yorke."

"Charles, you can tell me who it was, I hear?"

There was a startled glance for a moment in Charles's eye, as he looked
up at Mr. Yorke, and an unconscious meaning in his tone.

"Why, do _you_ know who it was, sir?"