opinion that her mind is deranged. In the case of this friendless woman, I want medical authority, and, more even than that, I want some positive proof, to satisfy my conscience as well as to confirm my view.

Finding me obstinate on this point, the lawyer undertook to consult a physician accustomed to the treatment of the insane, on my behalf.

After sending a message and receiving the answer, he said, "Bring the lady here-in half an hour; she shall tell her story to the doctor instead of telling it to me." The proposal rather staggered me; I asked how it was possible to induce her to do that. He laughed, and answered, "I shall present the doctor as my senior partner; my senior partner will be the very man to advise her." You know that I hate all deception-even where the end in view appears to justify it. On this occasion, however, there was no other alternative than to let the lawyer take his own course-or to run the risk of a delay which might be followed by serious results.

'I waited in a room by myself (feeling very uneasy I own) until the doctor joined me after the interview

was over.

'His opinion is, briefly, this:

""After careful examination of the unfortunate creature, he thinks that there are unmistakably symptoms of mental aberration, but how far the mischief has gone, and whether her case is, or is not, sufficiently grave to render actual restraint necessary, he cannot positively say in our present state of ignorance as to facts.

"Thus far," he observed, "we know nothing of

that part of her delusion which relates to Mercy Merrick. The solution of the difficulty, in this case, is to be found there. I entirely agree with the lady that the enquiries of the consul at Mannheim are far from being conclusive. Furnish me with satisfactory evidence either that there is, or is not, such a person really in existence as Mercy Merrick, and I will give you a positive opinion on the case, whenever you choose to ask for it."

'Those words have decided me on starting for the Continent, and renewing the search for the missing

nurse.

'My friend the lawyer wonders jocosely whether I am in my right senses. His advice is, that I should apply to the nearest magistrate, and relieve you and myself of all further trouble in that way.

'Perhaps you agree with him? My dear aunt (as you have often said), I do nothing like other people. I am interested in this case. I cannot abandon a forlorn woman who has been confided to me to the tender mercies of strangers, so long as there is any hope of my making discoveries which may be instrumental in restoring her to herself-perhaps, also, in restoring her to her friends.

I start by the mail train of to-night. My plan is, to go first to Mannheim, and consult with the consul and the hospital doctors; then to find my way to the German surgeon, and to question him; and, that done, to make the last and bardest effort of all-the effort to trace the French ambulance and to penetrate the mystery of Mercy Merrick.

'Immediately on my return I will wait on you, and tell you what I have accomplished, or how I have failed.

'In the meanwhile, pray be under no alarm about the reappearance of this unhappy woman at your house. She is fully occupied in writing (at my suggestion) to her friends in Canada; and she is under the care of the landlady at her lodgings-an experienced and trustworthy person, who has satisfied the doctor, as well as myself, of her fitness for the charge that she has undertaken.

'Pray mention this to Miss Roseberry (whenever you think it desirable), with the respectful expression of my sympathy, and of my best wishes for her speedy restoration to health. And once more forgive me for failing, under stress of necessity, to enjoy the hospitality of Mablethorpe House.'

Lady Janet closed Julian's letter, feeling far from satisfied with it. She sat for a while, pondering over what her nephew had written to her.

'One of two things, thought the quick-witted old lady. Either the lawyer is right, and Julian is a fit companion for the madwoman whom he has taken under his charge or he has some second motive for this absurd journey of his, which he has carefully abstained from mentioning in his letter. What can the motive be?'

At intervals during the night that question recurred to her ladyship again and again. The utmost exercise of her ingenuity failing to answer it, her one resource left was to wait patiently for Julian's return, and, in her own favourite phrase, to have it out with him' then.

The next morning, Lady Janet and her adopted

L

daughter left Mablethorpe House for Brighton; Horace (who had begged to be allowed to accompany them) being sentenced to remain in London by Mercy's express desire. Why-nobody could guess; and Mercy refused to say.

CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.

ENTER JULIAN.

A WEEK has passed. The scene opens again in the dining-room at Mablethorpe House.

The hospitable table bears once more its burden of good things for lunch. But, on this occasion, Lady Janet sits alone. Her attention is divided between reading her newspaper and feeding her cat. The cat is a sleek and splendid creature. He carries an erect tail. He rolls luxuriously on the soft carpet. He approaches his mistress in a series of coquettish curves. He smells with dainty hesitation at the choicest morsels that can be offered to him. The musical monotony of his purring falls soothingly on her ladyship's ear. She stops in the middle of a leading article, and looks with a careworn face at the happy cat. Upon my honour,' cries Lady Janet, thinking, in her inveterately ironical manner, of the cares that trouble her, 'all things considered, Tom, I wish I was You!'

The cat starts-not at his mistress's complimentary apostrophe, but at a knock at the door which follows. close upon it. Lady Janet says, carelessly enough,

'Come in ;' looks round listlessly to see who it is; and starts, like the cat, when the door opens and discloses-Julian Gray!

'You or your ghost?' she exclaims.

She has noticed already that Julian is paler than usual, and that there is something in his manner at once uneasy and subdued-highly uncharacteristic of him at other times. He takes a seat by her side, and kisses her hand. But-for the first time in his aunt's experience of him-he refuses the good things on the luncheon-table, and he has nothing to say to the cat! That neglected animal takes refuge on Lady Janet's lap. Lady Janet, with her eyes fixed expectantly on her nephew (determining to have it out with him' at the first opportunity), waits to hear what he has to say for himself. Julian has no alternative but to break the silence, and tell his story as he best may.

'I got back from the Continent last night,' he began. And I come here, as I promised, to report myself on my return. How does your ladyship do? How is Miss Roseberry?'

Lady Janet laid an indicative finger on the lace pelerine which ornamented the upper part of her dress. 'Here is the old lady, well,' she answered-and pointed next to the room above them. And there,' she added, 'is the young lady, ill. Is anything the matter with you, Julian ?'

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Perhaps I am a little tired after my journey. Never mind me. Is Miss Roseberry still suffering from the shock?'