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Eustace Macallan had certainly presented itself to that lady's mind, and was certainly considered by her to be too dangerous a topic of discourse to be pursued. Innocent Mr. Macallan would have gone on talking. Mrs. Beauly is discreet and stops him. On the day of Mrs. Eustace Macallan's death, the nurse is dismissed from attendance, and is sent downstairs.

"For this disaster Mr. Macallan was in no respect to blame. Hearing footsteps outside, he had only time to take measures for saving her character by concealing her in the nearest room and the nearest room happened to be his bedchamber. The matter was talked about, of course, and motives were misinterpreted in the vilest manner. My husband had another private conversation with Mr. Macallan.

"Oh, but you must be you had better rest yourself a little." "Thank you, but I'm not the least tired." Another five minutes. "Well, Mr Prose, I really give you great credit for your perseverance. Let me see how deep you are," said Macallan, who could find no other excuse for being the first to abandon his task.

Playmore, warning him, in good time, that I meant to make a last effort to penetrate the mystery at Gleninch. This last letter I inclosed to my mother-in-law, leaving it to her discretion to choose the right time for giving it to her son. I positively forbade Mrs. Macallan, however, to tell Eustace of the new tie between us.

"I mean to consult Miserrimus Dexter," I answered, boldly. Mrs. Macallan started back from me with a loud exclamation of surprise. "Are you out of your senses?" she asked. I told her, as I had told Major Fitz-David, that I had reason to think Mr. Dexter's advice might be of real assistance to me at starting. "And I," rejoined Mrs.

"Your notion of turning yourself into a Court of Appeal for a new Trial of Eustace, and forcing the world to pronounce a just verdict on him. Do you really mean to try it?" "I do!" Mrs. Macallan considered for a moment grimly with herself. "You know how heartily I admire your courage, and your devotion to my unfortunate son," she said. "You know by this time that I don't cant.

A rough, deep voice, which I should certainly never have supposed to be the voice of a woman, hailed us from the inner side of the paling. "Who's there?" "Mrs. Macallan," answered my mother-in-law. "What do you want?" "We want to see Dexter." "You can't see him." "Why not?" "What did you say your name was?" "Macallan. Mrs. Macallan. Eustace Macallan's mother. Now do you understand?"

The next morning, Seymour, Courtenay, and Macallan went on shore to meet an old acquaintance of the latter, who had called upon him on his arrival. By his advice they left the ship before the sun had risen, that they might be enabled to walk about, and view the town and its environs, without being incommoded by the heat.

BEFORE she had uttered a word, I saw in my mother-in-law's face that she brought bad news. "Eustace?" I said. She answered me by a look. "Let me he ar it at once!" I cried. "I can bear anything but suspense." Mrs. Macallan lifted her hand, and showed me a telegraphic dispatch which she had hitherto kept concealed in the folds of her dress. "I can trust your courage," she said.

Macallan followed her easily, knowing the place; and I walked in Mrs. Macallan's footsteps as closely as I could. "This is a nice family," my mother-in-law whispered to me. "Dexter's cousin is the only woman in the house and Dexter's cousin is an idiot." We entered a spacious hall with a low ceiling, dimly lighted at its further end by one small oil-lamp.