“I have seen an old gentleman with something on his mind.  What is it?”

“Suppressed gout, my dear.”

“That won’t do!  I am not to be put off in that way.  Uncle!  I want to know—­”

“Stop there, Blanche!  A young lady who says she ‘wants to know,’ expresses very dangerous sentiments.  Eve ’wanted to know’—­and see what it led to.  Faust ’wanted to know’—­and got into bad company, as the necessary result.”

“You are feeling anxious about something,” persisted Blanche.  “And, what is more, Sir Patrick, you behaved in a most unaccountable manner a little while since.”

“When?”

“When you went and hid yourself with Mr. Delamayn in that snug corner there.  I saw you lead the way in, while I was at work on Lady Lundie’s odious dinner-invitations.”

“Oh! you call that being at work, do you?  I wonder whether there was ever a woman yet who could give the whole of her mind to any earthly thing that she had to do?”

“Never mind the women!  What subject in common could you and Mr. Delamayn possibly have to talk about?  And why do I see a wrinkle between your eyebrows, now you have done with him?—­a wrinkle which certainly wasn’t there before you had that private conference together?”

Before answering, Sir Patrick considered whether he should take Blanche into his confidence or not.  The attempt to identify Geoffrey’s unnamed “lady,” which he was determined to make, would lead him to Craig Fernie, and would no doubt end in obliging him to address himself to Anne.  Blanche’s intimate knowledge of her friend might unquestionably be made useful to him under these circumstances; and Blanche’s discretion was to be trusted in any matter in which Miss Silvester’s interests were concerned.  On the other hand, caution was imperatively necessary, in the present imperfect state of his information—­and caution, in Sir Patrick’s mind, carried the day.  He decided to wait and see what came first of his investigation at the inn.

“Mr. Delamayn consulted me on a dry point of law, in which a friend of his was interested,” said Sir Patrick.  “You have wasted your curiosity, my dear, on a subject totally unworthy of a lady’s notice.”

Blanche’s penetration was not to be deceived on such easy terms as these.  “Why not say at once that you won’t tell me?” she rejoined. “You shutting yourself up with Mr. Delamayn to talk law! You looking absent and anxious about it afterward!  I am a very unhappy girl!” said Blanche, with a little, bitter sigh.  “There is something in me that seems to repel the people I love.  Not a word in confidence can I get from Anne.  And not a word in confidence can I get from you.  And I do so long to sympathize!  It’s very hard.  I think I shall go to Arnold.”

Sir Patrick took his niece’s hand.

“Stop a minute, Blanche.  About Miss Silvester?  Have you heard from her to-day?”

“No.  I am more unhappy about her than words can say.”