"And who was the murderer--in your mamma's dream?" continued Mr.

Carlyle, speaking as gravely as though he were upon a subject that men ridicule not.

"She cannot remember, except that he seemed a gentleman, and that we held intercourse with him as such. Now, that again is remarkable. We never told her, you know, of our suspicions of Captain Thorn."

"I think you must be becoming a convert to the theory of dreams yourself, Barbara; you are so very earnest," smiled Mr. Carlyle.

"No, not to dreams; but I am earnest for my dear brother Richard's sake."

"That Thorn does not appear in a hurry again to favor West Lynne with his----"

Mr. Carlyle paused, for Barbara had hurriedly laid her hand upon his arm, with a warning gesture. In talking they had wandered across the park to its ornamental grounds, and were now in a quiet path, overshadowed on the other side by a chain of imitation rocks. Seated astride on the summit of these rocks, right above where Mr. Carlyle and Barbara were standing was Francis Levison. His face was turned from them and he appeared intent upon a child's whip, winding leather round its handle. Whether he heard their footsteps or not, he did not turn. They quickened their pace, and quitted the walk, bending their steps backward toward the group of ladies.

"Could he have heard what we were saying?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Barbara, below her breath.

Mr. Carlyle looked down upon the concerned, flushed cheeks with a smile.

Barbara was so evidently perturbed. But for a certain episode of their lives, some years ago, he might have soothed her tenderly.

"I think he must have heard a little, Barbara, unless his wits were wool-gathering. He might not be attending. What if he did hear? It is of no consequence."

"I was speaking, you know, of Captain Thorn--of his being the murderer."

"You were not speaking of Richard or his movements, so never mind.

Levison is a stranger to the whole. It is nothing to him. If he did hear the name of Thorn mentioned, or even distinguished the subject, it would bear for him no interest--would go, as the saying runs, 'in at one ear and out at the other.' Be at rest, Barbara."

He really did look somewhat tenderly upon her as he spoke--and they were near enough to Lady Isabel for her to note the glance. She need not have been jealous: it bore no treachery to her. But she did note it; she had noted also their wandering away together, and she jumped to the conclusion that it was premeditated, that they had gone beyond her sight to enjoy each other's society for a few stolen moments. Wonderfully attractive looked Barbara that evening, for Mr. Carlyle or any one else to steal away with. Her tasty, elegant airy summer attire, her bright blue eyes, her charming features, and her damask cheeks! She had untied the strings of her pretty white bonnet, and was restlessly playing with them, more in thought than nervousness.

"Barbara, love, how are we to get home?" asked Mrs. Hare. "I do fear I shall never walk it. I wish I had told Benjamin to bring the phaeton."

"I can send to him," said Mr. Carlyle.

"But it is too bad of me, Archibald, to take you and Lady Isabel by storm in this unceremonious manner; and to give your servants trouble besides."

"A great deal too bad, I think," returned Mr. Carlyle, with mock gravity. "As to the servants, the one who has to go will never get over the trouble, depend upon it. You always were more concerned for others than for yourself, dear Mrs. Hare."

"And you were always kind, Archibald, smoothing difficulties for all, and making a trouble of nothing. Ah, Lady Isabel, were I a young woman, I should be envying you your good husband; there are not many like him."

Possibly the sentence reminded Lady Isabel that another, who was young, might be envying her, for her cheeks--Isabel's--flushed crimson. Mr.

Carlyle held out his strong arm of help to Mrs. Hare.

"If sufficiently rested, I fancy you would be more comfortable on a sofa indoors. Allow me to support you thither."

"And you can take my arm on the other side," cried Miss Carlyle, placing her tall form by Mrs. Hare. "Between us both we will pull you bravely along; your feet need scarcely touch the ground."

Mrs. Hare laughed, but said she thought Mr. Carlyle's arm would be sufficient. She took it, and they were turning toward the house, when her eye caught the form of a gentleman pa.s.sing along the road by the park gate.

"Barbara, run," she hurriedly exclaimed. "There's Tom Herbert going toward our house, and he will just call in and tell them to send the phaeton, if you ask him, which will save the trouble to Mr. Carlyle's servants of going expressly. Make haste, child! You will be up with him in half a minute."

Barbara, thus urged, set off, on the spur of the moment, toward the gates, before the rest of the party well knew what was being done. It was too late for Mr. Carlyle to stop her and repeat that the servant should go, for Barbara was already up with Mr. Tom Herbert. The latter had seen her running toward him, and waited at the gate.

"Are you going past our house?" inquired Barbara, perceiving then that Otway Bethel also stood there, but just beyond the view of the women.

"Yes. Why?" replied Tom Herbert, who was not famed for his politeness, being blunt by nature and "fast" by habit.

"Mamma would be so much obliged to you, if you would just call in and leave word that Benjamin is to bring up the phaeton. Mamma walked here, intending to walk home, but she finds herself so fatigued as to be unequal to it."

"All right. I'll call and send him. What time?"

Nothing had been said to Barbara about the time, so she was at liberty to name her own. "Ten o'clock. We shall be home then before papa."

"That you will," responded Tom Herbert. "He and the governor, and two or three more old codgers, are blowing clouds till you can't see across the room; and they are sure to get at it after supper. I say, Miss Barbara are you engaged for a few picnics?"

"Good for a great many," returned Barbara.

"Our girls want to get up some in the next week or two. Jack's home, you know."

"Is he?" said Barbara, in surprise.

"We had a letter yesterday, and he came to-day--a brother officer with him. Jack vows if the girls don't cater well for them in the way of amus.e.m.e.nt, he'll never honor them by spending his leave at home again; so mind you keep yourself in readiness for any fun that may turn up.

Good evening."

"Good evening, Miss Hare," added Otway Bethel.

As Barbara was returning the salutation, she became conscious of other footsteps advancing from the same direction that they had come, and moved her head hastily round. Two gentlemen, walking arm-in-arm, were close upon her, in one of whom she recognized "Jack," otherwise Major Herbert. He stopped, and held out his hand.

"It is some years since we met, but I have not forgotten the pretty face of Miss Barbara," he cried. "A young girl's face it was then, but it is a stately young lady's now."

Barbara laughed. "Your brother has just told me you had arrived at West Lynne; but I did not know you were so close to me. He has been asking me if I am ready for some pic--"

Barbara's voice faltered, and the rushing crimson dyed her face. Whose face was that, who was he, standing opposite to her, side by side with John Herbert? She had seen the face but once, yet it had implanted itself upon her memory in characters of fire. Major Herbert continued to talk, but Barbara for once lost her self-possession; she could not listen, she could only stare at that face as if fascinated to the gaze, looking herself something like a simpleton, her shy blue eyes anxious and restless, and her lips turning to an ashy whiteness. A strange feeling of wonder, of superst.i.tion was creeping over Barbara. Was that man behind her in sober, veritable reality--or was it but a phantom called up in her mind by the a.s.sociations rising from her mamma's dream; or by the conversation held not many moments ago with Mr. Carlyle.

Major Herbert may have deemed that Barbara, who evidently could not attend to himself, but was attending to his companion, wished for an introduction, and he accordingly made it. "Captain Thorn--Miss Hare."

Then Barbara roused herself; her senses were partially coming to her, and she became alive to the fact that they must deem her behavior unorthodox for a young lady.

"I--I looked at Captain Thorn, for I thought I remembered his face," she stammered.

"I was in West Lynne for a day or two, some five years ago," he observed.

"Ah--yes," returned Barbara. "Are you going to make a long stay now?"

"We have several weeks' leave of absence. Whether we shall remain here all the time I cannot say."

Barbara parted from them. Thought upon thought crowded upon her brain as she flew back to East Lynne. She ran up the steps to the hall, gliding toward a group which stood near its further end--her mother, Miss Carlyle, Mr. Carlyle, and little Isabel; Lady Isabel she did not see.

Mrs. Hare was then going up to see Joyce.

In the agitation of the moment she stealthily touched Mr. Carlyle, and he stepped away from the rest to speak to her, she drawing back toward the door of one of the reception rooms, and motioning him to approach.

"Oh, Archibald, I must speak to you alone! Could you not come out again for a little while?"