strict confidence," she replied, with a smile.
The door opened, and a maid said —
"Shall I light the lamps, sir?"
"Please."
The room was soon aglow with a soft, delicate light, and as the maid went out she said to herself —
"Well, I never. The ways of these gentry are past me. Fancy her sitting like that, and going to stop here all night. It's not respectable."
She was a new maid, with a narrow mind and a relaxable conscience, which could be stretched to any required length to suit her own purposes.
The maid, the luggage, and Bob Heather duly arrived. Bob had taken good care Mary Marley should not be cold during the drive.
"Are you tired, Irene?"
"No. I will sit up until you are ready to go."
"An hour longer, and then I shall pack you off," he said.
"And you?"
"I shall be up all night."
"All night?" she exclaimed, in surprise, "Why?"
"Because it is the night, two years ago, that Ulick left home. I sat up all night on this date last year. I know it will be on a night such as this he will come back."
"To-night, not to-night? Will he come home to-night?" she asked, eagerly.
"How can I tell, child? If he does not I must wait another year," he said, sadly.
"You have forgiven him?"
"Yes; but not his sin," he said.
"Are you sure, quite sure, it is his sin?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, there is no doubt about it."
"But Eli Todd – " she commenced.
"Is wrong," he answered. "He is blinded by his faith in Ulick. Eli would sacrifice even more than he has done for him, and God knows how he has suffered."
"I wish we had Eli's faith," she replied.
CHAPTER II
THE RUNAWAYS
There was a stud of thoroughbreds at Hazelwell, not large, but select, some of the mares boasting of blue blood such as can seldom be obtained after much search. Eli Todd was the manager of the stud, and lived in a small but picturesque and comfortable cottage on the estate. He served in the – th Hussars with Colonel Carstone, and during the time they were in India he acquired a considerable knowledge of horses of every description. He handled the Colonel's "Walers," and broke them in cleverly; he also trained the Colonel's horses for the races, and on one occasion had the audacity to declare he meant to win the Viceroy's Cup for his master, a feat he all but accomplished, as the Scout ran a good second for that coveted trophy.
When Colonel Carstone died, and Irene was committed to the care of Redmond Maynard, Eli Todd entered his service at the same time. It was owing to Irene that he did so. She persuaded her guardian that Eli was a veritable wonder in the management of horses, and that she was perfectly certain that if his services were secured Hazelwell Stud would benefit thereby.
Ulick Maynard backed up her recommendation, declaring he had cast curious eyes upon Eli ever since he returned from India with the Colonel.
"Lose no time in securing him," said Ulick; "such a man will be snapped up at once. Don't lose him whatever you do."
Redmond Maynard engaged Eli to manage his stud, and also to superintend the hunters and all the horses on the estate – a step he had never regretted. Eli was a widower with one child, a daughter, Janet Todd. She was about the same age as Irene, and a bright, merry, mischievous, exceedingly pretty girl. Vanity was her besetting sin, but apart from this she was of an amiable disposition, and innocent of any desire beyond harmless flirtations. Naturally her father idolised her, and it was mainly on her account he accepted the position Mr. Maynard offered him.
The night that Redmond Maynard sat up, hoping against hope that his son would return, Eli Todd was in a troubled state of mind.
Like his master, he dated the great misfortune of his life two years back from that night. He recalled vividly how his daughter Janet had kissed him good-night and then gone to bed. Her manner gave no indication of what was to befall during the next few hours.
He remembered how he sat waiting for her to come down to breakfast, wondering what kept her so long. Her room was above that in which he sat, and he heard no movement on the floor above. The strain became too great, and at last he could bear it no longer. He did not ring for the housekeeper, but crept upstairs and tapped gently at her door. There was no answer, and as he sat now, two years after, he felt again the throbbing of his heart in anticipation of some unknown evil he experienced on that occasion. He knocked again, and then slowly, noiselessly opened the door.
The room was empty, the bed had not been slept upon. Dazed and bewildered, he failed at first to understand what it meant. The stillness stunned him, and he groped his way forward like a blind man. Mechanically he ran his hands over the spotless counterpane, seeking, feeling for that he knew he should not find. He looked under the bed, in a closet, and even in her wardrobe; she was hiding, playing him a trick, but where had she hidden herself?
He sat down in the chair at her bedside and looked helplessly about the room. He fingered the candlestick which stood on a small table near the bed, examining it with unusual interest. There was an old pair of snuffers there, and he took them up and pressed the wick, which stuck fast, and the candle with the snuffers attached fell on the table. He put the empty candlestick on the bed and got up.
Walking to the window, he drew up the blinds and looked round the room again. He was near the dressing-table, and picked up one article after another. He did not look for a letter, a brief note; he would not have found one had he done so. She had gone, left him desolate without one parting word.
Still in a dazed condition, and not fully realising his loss, he went out of the room, closing the door after him, and stumbled downstairs.
Mrs. Marley, his housekeeper, heard him, and came into the room,
"Is Janet ill?" she asked, in a tone of concern.
"Yes," he replied, in a hollow voice. "I will take her breakfast upstairs."
"I can take it myself," she replied.
"No; please let me do it."
"Very well, but you spoil her, Mr. Todd; it is not good for her," said Mrs. Marley.
He laughed strangely, and she looked at him in surprise. He took the tray upstairs, placed it on the table at the bedside, and locked the door as he came out, putting the key in his pocket. Why he did this he failed to understand, except that he wanted time to think.
He was going over again everything that happened that terrible night. He had considered it many times, and he would not lay the guilt at Ulick's door; no, not even after two years of grave suspicion, which had not yet been removed. He once more saw the door open and Ulick Maynard come in out of the snowy night. He heard the startled cry Janet gave as she sprang from her chair, and her exclamation, "Mr. Ulick, what are you doing here?" rang in his ears.
"Eli, I want to sit down and think," Ulick had said, and, wonderingly,
