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"Miss Dallas." "No, major," replied Arkel, rather gruffly, for disappointment was beginning to tell on his temper, "nor are we likely to find any until that servant of yours regains his senses. How is he now?" "Gone! gone!" moaned Isabella, rising. "Oh, my dear, dead lover.".

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The major looked inquiringly at his visitor. She was a tall and stately woman, with a fair complexion, steady blue eyes and hair of a deep red shade. Although close on twenty-five years of age, she was still a spinster, as much to the annoyance of her mother--a match-making matron--she had hitherto declined the most eligible offers for her hand. Her reasons for such refusals she would not state, but Jen, from certain observations, had long since guessed the truth. Lady Meg was deeply in love with Maurice Alymer, and it was for his sake that she remained single. Whether she knew that the young man loved Isabella Dallas it is impossible to say; but at all events she showed him very plainly the drift of her desires. The very indifference of Alymer had rendered her passion more violent and persistent. What would have been the conclusion of this one-sided love it is difficult to conjecture; but the death of Maurice had brought this and all other things to an abrupt conclusion. "Oh," said Sarby, ironically; "and out of jealousy he stole the body?" "Mrs. Dallas stole the devil-stick," resumed Jen, imperturbably, "and gave it to Dido, who, by your directions, filled it with fresh poison. Dido gave the newly-prepared weapon of death to you, and with it you killed my poor boy at the very gates of the girl he loved." "Yes, my mother was. So you see, major, she could not have dropped the handkerchief in the bedroom of poor dear Maurice.".