Scott proceeded in the opposite direction in a deep study.  “Is it possible,” he soliloquized, “that that creature is on my track and has any proposition to make to me?  Or, is he afraid that I know his secret, and that I may deprive him of his hold upon the Mainwarings?  More likely it is the latter.  A week ago I was looking for that man, and would probably have endeavored to make terms with him, though it would have involved an immense amount of risk, for a cast-iron contract wouldn’t hold him, and his testimony would be worth little or nothing, one way or the other.”  Scott glanced again at the address on the card.  “Not a very desirable locality!  It probably suits him and his business, though:  I believe, I will give the scoundrel a call and see what I can draw out of him.”

Dinner was announced as Scott returned to the house, and a number of circumstances combined to render the meal far pleasanter and more social than any since the death of the master of Fair Oaks.  Mr. Merrick was nowhere to be found, and the slight restraint imposed by his presence was removed.  Mrs. LaGrange and her son were also absent, preferring to take their meals privately in an adjoining room which Hugh Mainwaring had often used as a breakfast-room.  The silence and frigidity which had lately reigned at the table seemed to have given place to almost universal sociability, though Ralph Mainwaring’s face still wore a sullen scowl.

As Mr. Whitney met the secretary, his sensitive face flushed at the remembrance of their late interview, and he watched the young man with evident curiosity.  Scott was conscious, however, of an increased friendliness towards himself on the part of most of the guests, but feeling that it was likely to prove of short duration, he remained noncommittal and indifferent.  As they left the table, Miss Carleton rallied him on his appearance.

“Mr. Scott, you are a mystery!”

“Why so, Miss Carleton, if you please?” he asked, quickly.

“Just now, when everybody’s spirits are relaxing after that horrible inquest, you look more serious and glum than I have ever seen you.  I threw myself into the breach this afternoon to rescue you from the enemy’s grounds, whither you had been carried by the sensational statements of Mrs. LaGrange and the coachman and chambermaid, and I have not even seen you smile once since.  Perhaps,” she added, archly, “you didn’t care to be rescued by a woman, but would have preferred to make your own way out.”

“No,” said Scott, smiling very brightly now; “I’ll not be so ungrateful as to say that, though I believe I am generally able to fight my own battles; but I will confess I was somewhat disappointed this afternoon when you gave your testimony.”

“How could that be?” she inquired, greatly surprised.

“Up to that time I had flattered myself that I had one friend who had faith in me, even though circumstances conspired against me.  I discovered, then, that it was no confidence in me, but only a knowledge of some of the facts, that kept her from turning against me like the rest.”