has accomplished its object by means of
information received from Norah's lips.

"Shall I tell you what I suffered, when I heard
these things? No: it would be only a waste of
time to tell you. Whatever I suffer, I deserve
it— don't I?

"I waited in that inner room— knowing my
own violent temper, and not trusting myself to
see you, after what I had heard— I waited
in that inner room, trembling lest the servant
should tell you of my visit, before I could find
an opportunity of leaving the house. No such
misfortune happened. The servant, no doubt,
heard the voices up-stairs, and supposed that we
had met each other in the passage. I don't know
how long, or how short a time it was, before you
left the room to go and take off your bonnet—
you went, and your friend went with you. I
raised the long window softly, and stepped into
the back garden. The way by which you returned
to the house, was the way by which I left it. No
blame attaches to the servant. As usual, where
I am concerned, nobody is to blame but me.

"Time enough has passed now to quiet my
mind a little. You know how strong I am? You
remember how I used to fight against all my
illnesses, when I was a child? Now I am a woman,
I fight against my miseries in the same way.
Don't pity me, Miss Garth! Don't pity me!

"I have no harsh feeling against Norah. The
hope I had of seeing her, is a hope taken from
me; the consolation I had in writing to her, is a
consolation denied me for the future. I am
cut to the heart—but I have no angry feeling
towards my sister. She means well, poor soul—
I dare say she means well. It would distress
her, if she knew what has happened. Don't tell
her. Conceal my visit, and burn my letter.

"A last word to yourself, and I have done.

"If I rightly understand my present situation,
your spies are still searching for me to just as
little purpose as they searched at York. Dismiss
them—you are wasting your money to no
purpose. If you discovered me to-morrow, what
could you do? My position has altered. I am
no longer the poor outcast girl, the vagabond
public performer, whom you once hunted after.
I have done, what I told you I would do—I have
made the general sense of propriety my
accomplice this time. Do you know who I am? I am
a respectable married woman, accountable for my
actions to nobody under heaven but my husband.
I have got a place in the world, and a name in
the world, at last. Even the law, which is the
friend of all you respectable people, has recognised
my existence, and has become my friend
too! The Archbishop of Canterbury gave me
his license to be married, and the rector of
Aldborough performed the service. If I found your
spies following me in the street, and if I chose to
claim protection from them, the law would
acknowledge my claim. You forget what wonders
my wickedness has done for me. It has made
Nobody's Child, Somebody's Wife.

"If you will give these considerations their
due weight; if you will exert your excellent
common sense, I have no fear of being obliged to
appeal to my newly-found friend and protector—
the law. You will feel, by this time, that you
have meddled with me at last to some purpose.
I am estranged from Norah— I am discovered by
my husband— I am defeated by Mrs. Lecount.
You have driven me to the last extremity; you
have strengthened me to fight the battle of my
life, with the resolution which only a lost and
friendless woman can feel. Badly as your schemes
have prospered, they have not proved totally
useless after all!

"I have no more to say. If you ever speak
about me to Norah, tell her that a day may come
when she will see me again— the day when we
two sisters have recovered our natural rights;
the day when I put Norah's fortune into Norah's
hand.

"Those are my last words. Remember them,
the next time you feel tempted to meddle with
me again.

"MAGDALEN VANSTONE."

IV.

FROM MR. LOSCOMBE TO MRS. NOEL VANSTONE.

Lincoln's Inn, Nov. 6th.

"Dear Madam,—This morning's post has
doubtless brought you the same shocking news
which it has brought to me. You must know, by
this time, that a terrible affliction has befallen
you— the affliction of your husband's sudden
death.

"I am on the point of starting for the North,
to make all needful inquiries, and to perform
whatever duties I may with propriety undertake,
as solicitor to the deceased gentleman. Let me
earnestly recommend you not to follow me to
Baliol Cottage, until I have had time to write to
you first, and to give you such advice as I cannot,
through ignorance of all the circumstances,
pretend to offer now. You may rely on my writing
after my arrival in Scotland, by the first post.

"I remain, dear Madam, faithfully yours,

"JOHN LOSCOMBE."

v.

FROM MR. PENDRIL TO MISS GARTH.

"Searle-street, Nov. 6th.

"Dear Miss Garth,— I return you Mrs. Noel
Vanstone's letter. I can understand your
mortification at the tone in which it is written, and
your distress at the manner in which this
unhappy woman has interpreted the conversation
that she overheard at your house. I cannot
honestly add that I lament what has happened.
My opinion has never altered since the Combe-
Raven time. I believe Mrs. Noel Vanstone to
be one of the most reckless, desperate, and
perverted women living; and any circumstances
that estrange her from her sister, are
circumstances which I welcome, for her sister's sake.

"There cannot be a moment's doubt on the
course you ought to follow in this matter. Even
Mrs. Noel Vanstone herself acknowledges the