“Well,” replied that gentleman, smiling genially, “speaking for myself, I would more than half like to stay and see this thing through; but the ladies are in the majority, and I will abide by their decision.  How is it, Edith?  I suppose, as the novelists say, you will be ‘torn by conflicting emotions.’”

“You horrid old papa!  Of course, if auntie is going back, I shall go with her.  What do you say, Winifred?”

“I have very little choice, one way or the other,” Miss Carleton replied, more quietly than was usual for her; “whatever you and Uncle William decide, will suit me.”

“Ab, here are the papers!” said Mrs. Mainwaring, adjusting her eye-glasses.  “These dreadful American dailies!” she exclaimed, as she scanned the pages; “one never knows where to find anything.  Ah, here it is, and just what we want!  The ‘Campania’ sails Thursday, at three o’clock.  That will suit us exactly.”

“To-morrow! so soon!” exclaimed two or three voices.

“Certainly,” she replied, rising.  “I shall have the maids begin packing at once; and, Mr. Thornton, I shall instruct Wilson to attend directly to your luggage, for you would never think of it until within an hour of sailing.”

Her departure seemed the signal for the breaking up of the little company.  Mr. Whitney lingered a few moments at Miss Carleton’s side, with a few murmured words of regret that she was to leave so soon, to which she listened courteously, though making little response.  After he had gone she remained standing where he had left her, gazing dreamily out on the river and the distant bluffs.  Merrick, slowly sauntering up and down the veranda, had observed the whole scene, and now watched the fair young face with a suggestion of a smile in his kindly eyes.

“H’m!” he soliloquized; “Whitney is a bigger fool than I’ve given him credit for if he thinks he stands any show in that direction.  If I’m not mistaken, I know which way the wind blows, and it’s dollars to doughnuts she’ll lose that far-away expression of hers before she’s been aboard the ‘Campania’ many hours.  I’d like to be aboard myself and watch the transformation scene.”

The attorney’s voice here broke in upon his cogitations.

“I say, Merrick, that was a regular bomb you threw at Mainwaring with regard to young Scott!  How did you discover he was an Englishman?”

“I very easily ascertained that he was not an American; that he was of English descent followed as a matter of course.  I am not sure whether he is of English birth.”

“You seem to be keeping an eye on him.”

“It is my business just now to be posted regarding every one associated with this place.  I’ve been keeping an eye on you for the last thirty minutes.”

The attorney colored, and hastily reverted to the original topic of conversation.  “Have you seen anything of him since he left us?”

“Since his resignation of the salary as well as the position of private ’secretary?” queried the detective, half to himself, with a tone of amusement, which Mr. Whitney failed to comprehend.  “Yes; I met him to-day at the Murray Hill.”