Rachel, arriving now with luncheon, failed to notice, or if noticed, to mention the article in the window. Next day, with great confidence, Lady Dunfern was found in her usual recess, and drawing forth the telescope, viewed keenly the object of her constant search, and to her wild delight she at once beheld Marjory Mason with grave face staring, she fancied, at her. At last, her Ladyship had achieved a mighty work, indeed, which she hoped would yet prove of more practical importance.
It may be mentioned that Marjory Mason visited the same plot of ground at the same hour every available morning since she was robbed of the pleasure of waiting on her mistress, merely to get a glimpse of the window she knew must belong to her Ladyship’s haunt of hardship; and could honest Marjory have only seen the handkerchief that every day was pointed to its little transparent enclosures, how she would so gladly have waved hers in return. But other means had to be resorted to, through Lady Dunfern’s great perspicacity, to try and establish a line of communication with one she could trust. This being now arrived at cast a world of grief from the mind of her who, under such a roof of suspense as that beneath which she existed, felt if aid were not forthcoming, she would shortly have to yield to the imperative command of the King of Conquering Divines.
Who could now recognise the “Southern Beauty” of Dilworth Castle? Who could visit the once beautiful bride of Dunfern Mansion without naturally betraying signs of heartfelt sorrow? She who so often graced the assemblies of the proud and famous; she who adorned society with her majestic presence; she who, by her charming manner and elegant bearing, failed not to steal the affection of him who treated her so, was an object of abject commiseration where her conduct wasn’t questioned. She was no longer the cheerful associate, the bright converser, the lively, robust Irene Iddesleigh. She, the pride of her guardians, the once adored of her husband, the envied object of socialism, must bear to exist, though by any means within her power, not where she existed presently. The next part to be enacted was to attract Marjory’s attention. This could easily be tried, and tying her cambric square firmly round the top of a small poker, she timidly sent it through the cavity, at the same time viewing Marjory by means of her telescope. At first Marjory was seen to shade her eyes with her hand, and move a little forward, then suddenly stop. She would again move slightly nearer to the wafting emblem of despair, and quickly advancing, until she neared the spot where best the snowy sign could be seen, instantly concluded that she must be observed by her ladyship.
When Lady Dunfern perceived that Marjory could by no means be closer to her, she pulled the flag of victory back, leaving her maid in breathless confusion, never for an instant flinching until she might again have an opportunity of rendering her assistance whom she worshipped.
In less than five minutes another signal appeared through the open space in the form of a small piece of paper, the meaning of which Marjory knew well. It appeared to be making its way with wonderful alacrity towards her, who now was in nervous despair lest she should be detected by her master, or some of the other members of his staff. At last the missive reached its destination, and, wildly grasping it, Marjory loosed the cord, that was swiftly drawn back, and plainly written by her mistress’s hand were the words, “To Marjory, my trusted maid.” Shrieking with delight, she pushed the note into her pocket, and, speedily hastening to the mansion, entered her own room. Securing the door from within, she instantly tore asunder the cover, and read with tearful eyes as follows:—
“Room No. 10.
“Dearest Marjory and Friend,
“You at last have proof of the confidence reposed in you by me. How I have thought of you since I was severed from you no one knows. That you have been aware of my imprisonment I can no longer doubt. However, I shall not presently give you any particulars, but beg to say that if you could by any means you thought safe let me hear if you have ever received any letters for me from Oscar, I should ever feel grateful and reward you accordingly. My reason for such inquiry I shall explain further on. Dear Marjory, keep this dark. Might I suggest that you slip a note under my door this evening at five o’clock precisely. This you can do I believe at this hour with safety. Trusting you are keeping strong, and hoping soon to thank you personally for such secret kindness,
“Believe me,
“Sincerely yours,