She spoke those words with a tone and a look which brought the tears into my eyes -- she spoke them as if she was bidding me farewell for ever.

`Good-bye, my lady,' I said, putting her into the carriage, and trying to cheer her; `good-bye, for the present only; good-bye, with my best and kindest wishes for happier times.'

She shook her head, and shuddered as she settled herself in the carriage. The guard closed the door. `Do you believe in dreams?' she whispered to me at the window. `My dreams, last night, were dreams I have never had before. The terror of them is hanging over me still.' The whistle sounded before I could answer, and the train moved. Her pale quiet face looked at me for the last time -- looked sorrowfully and solemnly from the window. She waved her hand, and I saw her no more.

Towards five o'clock on the afternoon of that same day, having a little time to myself in the midst of the household duties which now pressed upon me, I sat down alone in my own room, to try and compose my mind with the volume of my husband's Sermons. For the first time in my life I found my attention wandering over those pious and cheering words. Concluding that Lady Glyde's departure must have disturbed me far more seriously than I had myself supposed, I put the book aside, and went out to take a turn in the garden. Sir Percival had not yet returned, to my knowledge, so I could feel no hesitation about showing myself in the grounds.

On turning the corner of the house, and gaining a view of the garden, I was startled by seeing a stranger walking in it. The stranger was a woman -- she was lounging along the path with her hack to me. and was gathering the flowers.

As I approached she heard me, and turned round.

My blood curdled in my veins. The strange woman in the garden was Mrs Rubelle!

I could neither more nor speak. She came up to me, as composedly as ever, with her flowers in her hand.

`What is the matter, ma'am?' she said quietly.

`You here!' I gasped out. `Not gone to London! Not gone to Cumberland!'

Mrs Rubelle smelt at her flowers with a smile of malicious pity.

`Certainly not,' she said. `I have never left Blackwater Park.'

I summoned breath enough and courage enough for another question.

`Where is Miss Halcombe?'

Mrs Rubelle fairly laughed at me this time, and replied in these words --

`Miss Halcombe, ma'am, has not left Blackwater Park either.'