My own idea on reading over these instructions was, that no such residence as I saw described could be found at any watering-place in England, and that, even if it could by chance be discovered, it would certainly not be parted with for any period on such terms as I was permitted to offer.  I hinted at these difficulties to both the gentlemen, but Sir Percival (who undertook to answer me) did not appear to feel them.  It was not for me to dispute the question.  I said no more, but I felt a very strong conviction that the business on which I was sent away was so beset by difficulties that my errand was almost hopeless at starting.

Before I left I took care to satisfy myself that Miss Halcombe was going on favourably.

There was a painful expression of anxiety in her face which made me fear that her mind, on first recovering itself, was not at ease.  But she was certainly strengthening more rapidly than I could have ventured to anticipate, and she was able to send kind messages to Lady Glyde, saying that she was fast getting well, and entreating her ladyship not to exert herself again too soon.  I left her in charge of Mrs. Rubelle, who was still as quietly independent of every one else in the house as ever.  When I knocked at Lady Glyde’s door before going away, I was told that she was still sadly weak and depressed, my informant being the Countess, who was then keeping her company in her room.  Sir Percival and the Count were walking on the road to the lodge as I was driven by in the chaise.  I bowed to them and quitted the house, with not a living soul left in the servants’ offices but Margaret Porcher.

Every one must feel what I have felt myself since that time, that these circumstances were more than unusual—­they were! almost suspicious.  Let me, however, say again that it was impossible for me, in my dependent position, to act otherwise than I did.

The result of my errand at Torquay was exactly what I had foreseen.  No such lodgings as I was instructed to take could be found in the whole place, and the terms I was permitted to give were much too low for the purpose, even if I had been able to discover what I wanted.  I accordingly returned to Blackwater Park, and informed Sir Percival, who met me at the door, that my journey had been taken in vain.  He seemed too much occupied with some other subject to care about the failure of my errand, and his first words informed me that even in the short time of my absence another remarkable change had taken place in the house.

The Count and Countess Fosco had left Blackwater Park for their new residence in St. John’s Wood.

I was not made aware of the motive for this sudden departure—­I was only told that the Count had been very particular in leaving his kind compliments to me.  When I ventured on asking Sir Percival whether Lady Glyde had any one to attend to her comforts in the absence of the Countess, he replied that she had Margaret Porcher to wait on her, and he added that a woman from the village had been sent for to do the work downstairs.