His head sank. "I daren't tell you," he said. I went on from one imprudence to another. "What are you afraid of?" I asked. He suddenly looked up at me. His eyes answered: _"You."_Is it possible to fathom the folly of a woman in love? Can any sensible person imagine the enormous importance which the veriest trifles assume in her poor little mind? I was perfectly satisfied--even perfectly happy, after that one look. I rode on briskly for a minute or two--then the forgotten scene at the stable recurred to my memory. I resumed a foot-pace and beckoned to him to speak to me.
"Lady Claudia's bookseller lives in the City, doesn't he?" Ibegan.
"Yes, miss."
"Did you walk both ways?"
"Yes."
"You must have felt tired when you got back?""I hardly remember what I felt when I got back--I was met by a surprise.""May I ask what it was?"
"Certainly, miss. Do you remember a black bag of mine?""Perfectly."
"When I returned from the City I found the bag open; and the things I kept in it--the shawl, the linen, and the letter--""Gone?"
"Gone."
