The whist-party comprised Lady Lundie and the surgeon, playing as partners against Smith and Jones.  Arnold sat behind the surgeon, taking a lesson in the game.  One, Two, and Three, thus left to their own devices, naturally thought of the billiard-table; and, detecting Geoffrey asleep in his corner, advanced to disturb his slumbers, under the all-sufficing apology of “Pool.”  Geoffrey roused himself, and rubbed his eyes, and said, drowsily, “All right.”  As he rose, he looked at the opposite corner in which Sir Patrick and his niece were sitting.  Blanche’s self-possession, resolutely as she struggled to preserve it, was not strong enough to keep her eyes from turning toward Geoffrey with an expression which betrayed the reluctant interest that she now felt in him.  He stopped, noticing something entirely new in the look with which the young lady was regarding him.

“Beg your pardon,” said Geoffrey.  “Do you wish to speak to me?”

Blanche’s face flushed all over.  Her uncle came to the rescue.

“Miss Lundie and I hope you have slept well Mr. Delamayn,” said Sir Patrick, jocosely.  “That’s all.”

“Oh?  That’s all?” said Geoffrey still looking at Blanche.  “Beg your pardon again.  Deuced long walk, and deuced heavy dinner.  Natural consequence—­a nap.”

Sir Patrick eyed him closely.  It was plain that he had been honestly puzzled at finding himself an object of special attention on Blanche’s part.  “See you in the billiard-room?” he said, carelessly, and followed his companions out of the room—­as usual, without waiting for an answer.

“Mind what you are about,” said Sir Patrick to his niece.  “That man is quicker than he looks.  We commit a serious mistake if we put him on his guard at starting.”

“It sha’n’t happen again, uncle,” said Blanche.  “But think of his being in Anne’s confidence, and of my being shut out of it!”

“In his friend’s confidence, you mean, my dear; and (if we only avoid awakening his suspicion) there is no knowing how soon he may say or do something which may show us who his friend is.”

“But he is going back to his brother’s to-morrow—­he said so at dinner-time.”

“So much the better.  He will be out of the way of seeing strange things in a certain young lady’s face.  His brother’s house is within easy reach of this; and I am his legal adviser.  My experience tells me that he has not done consulting me yet—­and that he will let out something more next time.  So much for our chance of seeing the light through Mr. Delamayn—­if we can’t see it in any other way.  And that is not our only chance, remember.  I have something to tell you about Bishopriggs and the lost letter.”

“Is it found?”