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This time the post-mark was Southampton. They were in England, and hoped to be at Mrs. Estcourt's house the following day. What a long and wearisome morning the next was! for, as I dare say every one knows, time always passes slowly when we are expecting or waiting for anything. Mrs. Vivyan had said in her letter, that the train by which they intended to come arrived at about five o'clock.
As Julian Estcourt's eyes closed, it seemed to him that with a sudden sharp spasm of pain he tore himself away from that sleeping sentient portion of humanity which was his representation, and then, without effort or consciousness of his own, he seemed floating swiftly along over a dark and misty space. A great sea tossed and moaned beneath him.
"You may go up to her rooms after dinner, and if she hasn't got that gown on, and if she didn't come by that doorway well I'll say I've gone stark staring mad! That's so!" Just as the ladies had left the dining-room, a note was put into Colonel Estcourt's hand. He opened it and read the two brief lines it contained. "I will see you in my boudoir when you have finished dinner."
"The very vagueness of form permits the eye to clothe it in the loveliest tints of Fancy." "Now that's what I call rational," murmured Mrs Jefferson in Colonel Estcourt's ear. "Do you think he knows what he means. I guess he don't... Gracious!" She started, and suddenly grasped his arm. "Look," she said, "there's the princess in the doorway. Is she coming in? No! She's moving away.
She had spent many anxious hours thinking of all this, and laying plans about the care she would take of him, and all the ways in which she would try to make him happy and contented. Arthur and his father had left Ashton by an afternoon train, which did not bring them into the town, near Mrs. Estcourt's house, until it was quite dark. It was a very cheerless journey to Arthur.
Estcourt's letter began 'Dear Madam, and it was some little time before Arthur could understand who it was from, or what it meant. By and by he found that it was from Edgar's aunt, and that she was wishing him to stay at her house in London, so that he might see her little nephew again.
Wilkins pumped the words out of his husky throat: "I have not heard. I have been riding. I went on business to Mr. Estcourt's. Perhaps you will be so kind as to send and inquire at Mrs. Jackson's." Ellinor sickened at the words. She had been all her life a truthful plain-spoken girl. She held herself high above deceit. Yet, here came the necessity for deceit a snare spread around her.
"'Fair, fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the pudding race: Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Paunch, tripe, or thairm; Weel are ye worthy o' a grace As lang's my arm. "This bird is excellent; whoever cooked it, 'His name should be enrolled In Estcourt's book, whose gridiron's framed of gold.
A few other misguided individuals, of the male sex, offered and accepted bets sotto voce on the chances of the Unknown appearing. At last, when expectation had been strained almost to breaking point, it was set at rest. The doors were thrown open, and, lightly leaning on Colonel Estcourt's arm, appeared Mrs Jefferson's much talked of, and beautiful "Mystery."
Mrs Jefferson related the story of her appearance in the doorway, her belief in it having long since been substantiated by Colonel Estcourt's reluctant admission that the Princess was certainly attired in a white silk gown, bordered and trimmed with white fur, when he went up to her rooms that evening.
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