It was the loveliest autumn I had ever remembered. Clear, soft, balmy; the foliage glowing with, its ruddy tints, the sky blue and beautiful.

There would be a fire in the grate of the oak-parlour, and the window thrown open to the lawn and the scent of the sweet flowers. One afternoon I sat there, a bit of work in my hand, the sprays of jessamine nearly touching me, and the far-off pine-walk looking almost as bright as though no ghost had the reputation of haunting it. Mr. Chandos sat at the table writing. Out of doors or in, we were very much together, and my heart was at rest. I\'m afraid I had taken to think that the heaven of hereafter could not be more blissful than this that I seemed to be living in now.

His foot was weak again. Not to disable him from getting about; only to deter him from walking more than was absolutely necessary. It was all his own fault; as Mr. Dickenson, the surgeon, told him; he had persisted in using the ankle too much before it was quite strong.

Lady Chandos kept her rooms still; report said her bed; and the impression in the house was that he lay in danger. The discovery of the petty pilferer, or pilferers, appeared to be as far-off as ever: but one or two strange things connected with the subject were about to occur.

"Will you put these on the hall-table for me, Anne?"

"I turned to take the letters from him. When he did not let me save his foot in these little things, it made me cross, and I told him so. One of the letters was addressed to his sister.

"You have been writing to Madame de Mellissie, Mr. Chandos!"

"Yes. We heard from her this morning. She expects to be here in a day or two. Stay! I think I will show my mother what I have said. You shall put only the other one on the table."

The news fell on my heart like a shaft of ice. Chandos had become all too dear.

The other letter was to Mr. Haines; I remembered the name as that of an agent who had taken the house by the lodge-gates for Mr. Edwin Barley. It was sealed with the Chandos coat of arms in black wax. I had never seen Mr. Chandos use red. Lizzy Dene was passing through the hall as I laid the letter down. I observed that she looked at me; seemed to look at what I was doing; and Mrs. Penn and Hill were speaking on the stairs, nearly beyond view; whether they saw me or not, I could not say.

"Thank you," said Mr. Chandos, when I went in again. "What should I do without you to fetch and carry? I want that book now."

It lay on the side-table; a dreadfully dry scientific work. He locked his desk and took the book from me.

"You must put down your slavery to my stupid foot. When you get disabled, Anne, I\'ll do as much for you."

"You know the fault is yours, Mr. Chandos. Had you only been a little patient when the foot was getting better, it would have been strong before now. As to the slavery----"

"Well? What as to the slavery? Are you going to strike?"

"I had been about to say that I liked the slavery, but stopped in time. The colour of embarrassment was coming into my cheek, and I turned it off with a light laugh and light words.

"I won\'t strike just yet. Not until Madame de Mellissie comes."

"Then suppose you lend me your shoulder?"

He could have walked quite well without it, as he knew and I knew; I daresay if put to it he might have walked to the railway station. But ah! the bliss of feeling his hand on me! if it were only half as great to him he had kept his ankle sick for ever!

"As to Emily, with her proverbial uncertainty, she is just as likely to be here in two months as in two days, Anne."

I took up my work again; a pretty bag I was embroidering in grey and black silk for Lady Chandos. He sat on the other side the window, reading his book and talking to me between whiles. All things seemed full of rest and peace and love; a very paradise.

Soon--I daresay it was an hour, but time passed so swiftly--we heard footsteps come along the broad walk to the portico. I looked out to see whose they were.

"It is Mr. Dexter," I said to Mr. Chandos.

"Dexter! The very man I wanted to see. Now you need not go away," he added, as I began to gather up my work, "we are not about to talk treason. Don\'t you know, Anne, that I like to have you with me while I may."

He must have been thinking of the approaching separation that the event of Emily would bring about. But I had to get some more silk, and went to fetch it, staying in my room some minutes. When I got back they were both seated at the table, some papers before them. I turned to the window, and went on with my work.

The conversation appeared to be of little moment; of none to me! it was of leases, rents, repairs, and other matters connected with the estate. Presently Mr. Dexter mentioned that he had received a letter from Haines.

"Have you?" said Mr. Chandos. "I wrote to him this afternoon. What does he say?"

Mr. Dexter took a letter from his pocket-book, and put it into his master\'s hand, who ran his eyes over it.

"My letter will be useless, then, and I must write another," he observed when he had finished. "I\'ll get it, and show you what I said. It will save explanation."

"Let me get it for you, Mr. Chandos," I interposed, anxious to save him. And without waiting for, permission I left the room. But the letter was not on the table.

"It is not there, Mr. Chandos; it is gone."

"It cannot be gone," he said, taking out his watch. "It is only four o\'clock. Emily\'s letter is not put there yet."

Hickens was called. Hickens, in a marvel of consternation--at being asked what he had done with the letter--protested he had not seen it; he had not been in the hall that afternoon.

We all went out; it seemed so strange a thing; and I showed Mr. Chandos where I had laid the letter. It had not slipped down; it could not be seen anywhere. Mr. Chandos looked at me: he was evidently thinking that the spy was again at work.

"Was any one in the hall when you put the letter here, Miss Hereford?"

"Lizzy Dene was passing through it. And Mrs. Penn and Hill were standing on the stairs."

"They would not touch it," said Mr. Chandos, just as Lizzy Dene, hearing the commotion, looked from the door of the large dining-room. It was her place to keep the room in order, and she seemed to choose odd times to do it in. Mr. Chandos questioned her, but she said she had not touched the letter; had not in fact noticed it.

At this juncture Mrs. Chandos came down the stairs, dressed for going out, attended by Mrs. Penn. She inquired of Mr. Chandos what the matter was.

"A letter has mysteriously disappeared from the hall, Ethel," he replied.

"A letter disappeared I how strange!" she returned, in the rather vacant manner that at times characterized her. "Was it of consequence?"

"In itself, no. But these curious losses are always of consequence in another sense of the word. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Penn: did you speak?"

For Mrs. Penn, who first stood back in her surprise, had advanced behind him, and was saying something in a low tone.

"Mr. Chandos! reply upon it, the same hand that opened my letter has taken this one. You ought not to leave a stone unturned to discover the culprit. I speak in the interest of all."

Mr. Chandos nodded grave assent. He seemed to be in a hopeless puzzle. I fully suspected Lizzy Dene; and I think she saw something of this in my face.

"What should I do with a letter that was not mine?" she cried, her tone resentful, and addressing no one in particular. "If Mr. Chandos offered me a dozen of his letters to read, I\'d rather be spared the trouble; I am no great scholar. And what good would they do me?"

The argument seemed all conclusive; at least to M. Chandos. I suspected the girl more and more.

"Well, Harry, I must leave you to your investigation, if I am to have a walk this afternoon," concluded Mrs. Chandos.

She went out and turned down the broad walk. Lizzy resumed her work in the dining-room, I and Mr. Dexter went back to the oak-parlour and stood at the window: and then I became aware that Mrs. Penn had lingered in the portico, talking with Mr. Chandos.

"Until recently I believed we had the most trustworthy set of servants that it is possible for any family to have," he was saying. "What can there be in my letters that should interest them?"

"Nay," said Mrs. Penn, "I think it is the greater wonder what there should be in mine. I am a stranger to your servants: my affairs cannot be supposed to concern any one of them."

"It is my habit to leave letters on the table every day. They have never been touched or tampered with, so far as I know, until this afternoon."

"You cannot be sure of that. But what shall you do in the matter now?"

"I don\'t know what to do; it is the sort of thing that causes me to feel at a nonplus. Were I to have an officer in the house to watch, as you suggest, it might prove useless."

"Have you a suspicion of any one in particular?" she abruptly asked. And by this time Mr. Dexter had grown interested in the conversation, and was listening as closely as I.

"Not the slightest. Neither can you have, I suppose."

Mrs. Penn was silent.

"Have you?" repeated he, thinking her manner peculiar.

"I would rather not answer the question, Mr. Chandos; because it would inevitably be followed by another."

"Which is equivalent to admitting that your suspicions are directed to some one in particular," he returned, with awakened interest. "Why should you object to avow it?"

"Well, it is so," she replied. "I do think that all the circumstances--taking one loss, one disagreeable event with another--do tend to point suspicion to a certain quarter. But I may be wrong."

"To whom?" he asked.

"That is just the question that I knew would follow," returned Mrs. Penn, and I must decline to answer it. "No, Mr. Chandos; you possess the same facilities for observing and judging that I do: in fact, greater ones: and if you cannot draw your own deductions, I certainly will not help you to them. I might be wrong, you know."

"You must allude to an inmate of Chandos?"

"I should deem it impossible that any but an inmate of Chandos could play these tricks. Where would be the opportunity?"

"Mrs. Penn, if you possess any clue; nay, if you think you have any well-founded cause of suspicion, you ought to impart it to me," he gravely said.

"Were I sure that my suspicions were correct, I would do so; but, as I say, they may be mistaken. Forgive me, if I hint that perhaps your own eyes are shut closer than they need be."

She hastened away, leaving the impression of her mysterious words behind. I wondered very much if she alluded to Lizzy Dene.

That same evening I had an opportunity of asking her. Mr. Chandos went to the west wing after dinner, I sat near the lights, working at my bag, when Mrs. Penn came into the oak-parlour, not having troubled herself to knock for admittance.

"It\'s fine to be you, Anne Hereford," she said, putting herself into Mr. Chandos\'s chair by the fire. "I wish I had this room to sit in."

"Are the rooms upstairs not comfortable?"

"I don\'t know about comfort: they are wretchedly dull. I\'d as soon be cooped up in a prison. Not a soul to speak to from morning to night, but Mrs. Chandos. Here you have Mr. Chandos; full state and ceremony; and the chance of seeing all the visitors."

"All the visitors consist of a doctor now and then, and Mr. Dexter once a week, or so," I said, laughing.

"A doctor and an agent are better than nobody. I suppose," she added, after a pause, "they are all assembled in party conclave in the west wing; Mr. Chandos, Mrs. Chandos, and my lady."

"I wish Lady Chandos was better," I remarked.

Mrs. Penn turned round eagerly, her eye lighting with excitement.

"I wish I knew what it is that\'s the matter with her! I wish I knew! Do you never gather a hint of it from Mr. Chandos?"

"Never. But why should you be so desirous to learn? What is it to you, Mrs. Penn?"

"I have my reasons," she replied, nodding her head. "I won\'t tell them to you this evening, but I have not made a vow that I never will. If she is insane, as I suspect, why then--but I\'ll say no more now. What a strange thing it is about that letter!"

"Very. You are suspecting some one in particular?"

"Well?" she answered, sharply, turning her face to me.

"Is it Lizzy Dene?"

"Who it is, or who it is not, is nothing to you," she rejoined, in the crossest tone I ever heard. "I know this: I would give the worth of a dozen letters ten times over to bring the mystery to light. They may be suspecting you and me next."

"Mrs. Penn!"

"Yes, Mrs. Penn!" she retorted, in a mocking tone. "We are the only strangers in the house, Anne Hereford."

As if my words had angered her past redemption, she quitted the room abruptly. Very soon Mr. Chandos returned to it, and the tea came in. He began talking of the lost letter--of the unpleasantness altogether. Should I tell him of my doubt? The old proverb runs, that if a woman deliberates she is lost: it proved so in my case, and I mentioned Lizzy Dene.

"Lizzy Dene!" repeated Mr. Chandos, in great surprise. "Lizzy Dene!"

"But indeed it is a doubt more than a suspicion; and it arises chiefly from my having found her in my room that night," I eagerly added, feeling half afraid of what I had done, and determined not to hint at her supposed alliance with Mr. Edwin Barley.

"Rely upon it, you are wrong, Anne," Mr. Chandos decided, without any pause. "Lizzy Dene would be the very last woman to act in a treacherous manner to our family. She may be foolishly superstitious, but she is honest as the day. I\'ll answer for her."

How could I say more?--unless my grounds against Lizzy Dene had been surer. Joseph took away the tea-things, and Mr. Chandos went to his own sitting-room. I stood at the little table in the corner of the room nearest the window, putting my workbox to rights. Some of its reels were on the window-ledge, and I moved to get them.

I don\'t know why I should have done it; unthinkingly, I believe; but I drew aside the muslin curtain to look out on the lovely night, and found my face in contact (save for the glass that was between us) with that of another face, peering in. Terribly startled, I drew away with a scream. Mr. Chandos came back at the moment, and I gave a frightened word of explanation. Quick as lightning, he laid forcible hold of me, put me............