Mr. Harker’s troubled face darkened, and his thin hands clenched and unclenched themselves, for he knew Mr. Vermont only too well, and the thought had already crossed his mind that this sudden illness was in some way due to that gentleman’s interference.

Outside Hampton Court station they found the horse and cart for which John had arranged; and the two men got in silently and started off once more.  They were within a short distance of their destination, when John pulled up the horse with an exclamation of astonishment.  They were in a narrow lane, with barely room enough for the cart to pass along, and almost within a yard of the horse’s hoofs stood the figure of a young girl.

Ashford recognised her in an instant; with a shout of warning, he threw the reins to his father-in-law and, leaping to the ground, caught the girl by the arm.

“Jessica!” he cried reproachfully.  “What are you doing here?”

She looked up at him in silence, and her eyes filled with tears.

“I am coming back to you,” she said at last, in a low voice, “if you will have me?  There was some one I wanted to see again in London, or I would never have gone; for, oh! sir, I know how good you and Mrs. Ashford have been to me.”

John appeared relieved.

“I thought you weren’t one of the sort to go off and leave my Lucy just because she was ill and wanted extra help,” he said, in a tone of relief.

“Ill,” repeated Jessica, with a look of bewilderment.  “She was not ill when I left her.  It was the other lady who was ill.”

John, of course, knew nothing of Lady Merivale, and gazed at Jessica as though she had taken leave of her senses.

“I don’t know what lady you mean,” he said; “but my wife has been very ill for the past two weeks, and asking for you often.  You see, I thought you had run away and left her.”

“I will drive back with you, please, sir, if you have room for me.  I didn’t know Mrs. Ashford was ill,” said the girl, humbly following him, as he turned towards the trap.

He lifted her up, and fastened her in securely.

All this time Mr. Harker had taken no notice of the little episode, save to wonder slightly at the delay.  But directly he caught sight of the vivid, dark beauty of the girl, he started.

“Who is this?” he asked John, who was hurriedly driving on again.

“A poor girl whom Lucy has befriended,” he replied.  “Why, did you think you recognised her?”

Mr. Harker shook his head.  She strongly resembled some one he had seen; but, for the moment, he could not call to mind who that person was.

“What is her name?” he inquired.

“Jessica,” replied his son-in-law.  “She doesn’t seem to know any other.”

They drove on in silence, broken presently by Mr. Harker, who had stolen another glance at the silent girl.

“A wonderful likeness,” he murmured.  “I could have sworn that was Ada Lester, the actress, as she used to be.”