“Really, my lord, I know nothing about that,”—­she said, primly—­ “Nor should I even make it my business to enquire.”  There was an awkward pause after this, and though Longford skilfully changed the subject of conversation to generalities, the rest of the interview was fraught with considerable embarrassment.  Miss Fosby was not to be ‘drawn.’  She was distinctly ’old-fashioned,’—­needless therefore to add that she was absolutely loyal to her absent friend and hostess.

Leaving the Manor, Lord Roxmouth and his tame pussy sought for information in other quarters with equal futility.  The agent, Mr. Stanways, ‘knew nothing.’  His orders were to communicate all his business to Miss Vancourt’s solicitors in London.  Finally the last hope failed them in Julian Adderley.  They found that young gentleman as much taken aback as themselves by the news of Maryllia’a departure.  He had been told nothing of it.  A note from Cicely Bourne had been brought to him that morning by one of the gardeners at the Manor—­and he showed this missive to both Roxmouth and Longford with perfect frankness.  It merely ran:  “Goodbye Moon-calf!  Am going away.  No time to see you for a fond farewell!  Hope you will be famous before I come back.  Enclosed herewith is my music to your ’Little Eose Tree,’ goblin.”

This, with the accompanying manuscript score of the song alluded to was all the information Julian could supply,—­and his own surprise and consternation at the abrupt and unexpected termination of his pleasant visits to the Manor, were too genuine to be doubted.

“It is positively remote!” he said, staring vaguely at his visitors--"Too remote for realisation!  Mr. Walden has gone away too.”

Roxmouth started.

“Mr. Walden?”

“Yes.”  And Julian looked surprised at the other’s hasty tone,—­“But only to see his Bishop.  He will preach here as usual on Sunday.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked Longford, sharply scanning Julian’s flabby face, green-grey eyes and ruddy locks with sudden suspicion—­ “Or is it only a blind?”

“A blind?” And Adderley lifted his shoulders to the lobes of his ears and spread out his hands in flat amazement,—­“What do you mean, most obscure Marius?  For what purpose should a blind be used?  Mr. Walden is the last person in the world to wish to cover his intentions, or disguise his motives.  He is the sincerest man I ever met!”

Longford glanced at his patron for instructions.  Was Adderley to be told of the ‘amorous entanglement’ of Miss Vancourt?  Roxmouth frowned at him warningly, and he understood his cue.

“Well, if you hear any news from the Manor, you can let us know,”—­ he said—­“You are quite aware of the position—–­”

“Quite!” murmured Julian, lazily.

“And if you want to get on, you will hardly find a better friend than Lord Roxmouth,”—­pursued Longford, with meaning emphasis—­“He has made many a man famous!”