Part 23 (1/2)

”Did she take the turning that leads to the railway?”

Another negative shake of the head.

”She went on, toward the moor?”

An affirmative reply.

”What did she do when she got to the moor?”

Hester Dethridge wrote: ”She took the footpath which leads to Craig Fernie.”

Lady Lundie rose excitedly to her feet. There was but one place that a stranger could go to at Craig Fernie. ”The inn!” exclaimed her ladys.h.i.+p.

”She has gone to the inn!”

Hester Dethridge waited immovably. Lady Lundie put a last precautionary question, in these words:

”Have you reported what you have seen to any body else?”

An affirmative reply. Lady Lundie had not bargained for that. Hester Dethridge (she thought) must surely have misunderstood her.

”Do you mean that you have told somebody else what you have just told me?”

Another affirmative reply.

”A person who questioned you, as I have done?”

A third affirmative reply.

”Who was it?”

Hester Dethridge wrote on her slate: ”Miss Blanche.”

Lady Lundie stepped back, staggered by the discovery that Blanche's resolution to trace Anne Silvester was, to all appearance, as firmly settled as her own. Her step-daughter was keeping her own counsel, and acting on her own responsibility--her step-daughter might be an awkward obstacle in the way. The manner in which Anne had left the house had mortally offended Lady Lundie. An inveterately vindictive woman, she had resolved to discover whatever compromising elements might exist in the governess's secret, and to make them public property (from a paramount sense of duty, of course) among her own circle of friends. But to do this--with Blanche acting (as might certainly be antic.i.p.ated) in direct opposition to her, and openly espousing Miss Silvester's interests--was manifestly impossible.

The first thing to be done--and that instantly--was to inform Blanche that she was discovered, and to forbid her to stir in the matter.

Lady Lundie rang the bell twice--thus intimating, according to the laws of the household, that she required the attendance of her own maid.

She then turned to the cook--still waiting her pleasure, with stony composure, slate in hand.

”You have done wrong,” said her ladys.h.i.+p, severely. ”I am your mistress.

You are bound to answer your mistress--”

Hester Dethridge bowed her head, in icy acknowledgment of the principle laid down--so far.

The bow was an interruption. Lady Lundie resented it.