"What do you say?" asked Sir John, for Coventry had spoken more to

himself than to his uncle.

"I wonder if Lady Sydney was aware of this?" was all Gerald's answer.

"No, Jean said she did not wish to be pitied, and so told nothing to the

mother. I think the son knew, but that was a delicate point, and I asked

no questions."

"I shall write to him as soon as I discover his address. We have been so

intimate I can venture to make a few inquiries about Miss Muir, and

prove the truth of her story."

"Do you mean to say that you doubt it?" demanded Sir John angrily.

"I beg your pardon, Uncle, but I must confess I have an instinctive

distrust of that young person. It is unjust, I dare say, yet I cannot

banish it."

"Don't annoy me by expressing it, if you please. I have some penetration

and experience, and I respect and pity Miss Muir heartily. This dislike

of yours may be the cause of her late melancholy, hey, Gerald?" And Sir

John looked suspiciously at his nephew.

Anxious to avert the rising storm, Coventry said hastily as he turned

away, "I've neither time nor inclination to discuss the matter now, sir,

but will be careful not to offend again. I'll take your message to

Bella, so good-bye for an hour, Uncle."

And Coventry went his way through the park, thinking within himself, The

dear old gentleman is getting fascinated, like poor Ned. How the deuce

does the girl do it? Lady Howard's daughter, yet never told us; I don't

understand that.




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