On the doorstep he found Norah and Miss Garth, setting forth together for a walk.

“Which way are you going?” he asked.  “Anywhere near the post-office?  I wish you would post this letter for me, Norah.  It is very important—­so important that I hardly like to trust it to Thomas, as usual.”

Norah at once took charge of the letter.

“If you look, my dear,” continued her father, “you will see that I am writing to Mr. Pendril.  I expect him here to-morrow afternoon.  Will you give the necessary directions, Miss Garth?  Mr. Pendril will sleep here to-morrow night, and stay over Sunday.—­Wait a minute!  Today is Friday.  Surely I had an engagement for Saturday afternoon?” He consulted his pocketbook and read over one of the entries, with a look of annoyance.  “Grailsea Mill, three o’clock, Saturday.  Just the time when Pendril will be here; and I must be at home to see him.  How can I manage it?  Monday will be too late for my business at Grailsea.  I’ll go to-day, instead; and take my chance of catching the miller at his dinner-time.”  He looked at his watch.  “No time for driving; I must do it by railway.  If I go at once, I shall catch the down train at our station, and get on to Grailsea.  Take care of the letter, Norah.  I won’t keep dinner waiting; if the return train doesn’t suit, I’ll borrow a gig and get back in that way.”

As he took up his hat, Magdalen appeared at the door, returning from her interview with Frank.  The hurry of her father’s movements attracted her attention; and she asked him where he was going.

“To Grailsea,” replied Mr. Vanstone.  “Your business, Miss Magdalen, has got in the way of mine—­and mine must give way to it.”

He spoke those parting words in his old hearty manner; and left them, with the old characteristic flourish of his trusty stick.

“My business!” said Magdalen.  “I thought my business was done.”

Miss Garth pointed significantly to the letter in Norah’s hand.  “Your business, beyond all doubt,” she said.  “Mr. Pendril is coming tomorrow; and Mr. Vanstone seems remarkably anxious about it.  Law, and its attendant troubles already!  Governesses who look in at summer-house doors are not the only obstacles to the course of true-love.  Parchment is sometimes an obstacle.  I hope you may find Parchment as pliable as I am—­I wish you well through it.  Now, Norah!”

Miss Garth’s second shaft struck as harmless as the first.  Magdalen had returned to the house, a little vexed; her interview with Frank having been interrupted by a messenger from Mr. Clare, sent to summon the son into the father’s presence.  Although it had been agreed at the private interview between Mr. Vanstone and Mr. Clare that the questions discussed that morning should not be communicated to the children until the year of probation was at an end—–­and although under these circumstances Mr. Clare had nothing to tell Frank which Magdalen