While he thus reflected, she had turned to the table and was busy writing.
“I have just thought of sending a few farewell lines to May,” said she, talking away as her pen ran along the paper. “We all of us mistake each other in this world; we are valued for what we are not, and deemed deficient in what we have.” She stopped, and then crumpling up the half-written paper in her hand, said: “No, I'll not write,—at least, not now. You 'll tell her everything,—ay, Charles, everything!”
Here she fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, as though to look into his very thoughts. “You and May Leslie will be married, and one of your subjects of mysterious talk when you 're all alone will be that strange woman who called herself Mrs. Penthony Morris. What wise guesses and shrewd conjectures do I fancy you making; how cunningly you 'll put together fifty things that seem to illustrate her story, and yet have no bearing upon it; and how cleverly you 'll construct a narrative for her without one solitary atom of truth. Well, she 'll think of you, too, but in a different spirit, and she will be happier than I suspect if she do not often wish to live over again the long summer days and starry nights at Marlia.”
“May is certain to ask me about Clara, where she is, and if we are likely to see her again.”
“And you 'll tell her that as I did not speak of her, your own delicacy imposed such a reserve that you could not ask these questions. Good-bye. But that I want to be forgotten, I 'd give you a keepsake. Good-bye,—and forget me.”
She turned away at the last word, and passed into an inner room. Charles stood for an instant or two irresolute, and then walked slowly away.
CHAPTER IV. FOUND OUT.
Quackinboss and the Laytons came back in due time to England, and at once hastened to London. They had traced Winthrop and Trover at Liverpool, and heard of their having left for town, and thither they followed them in all eagerness. The pursuit had now become a chase, with all its varying incidents of good or bad fortune. Each took his allotted part, going out of a morning on his especial beat, and returning late of an evening to report his success or failure.
Quackinboss frequented all the well-known haunts of his countrymen, hoping to chance upon some one who had seen Winthrop, or could give tidings of him. Old Layton—the doctor, as we shall for the remainder of our brief space call him—was more practical. He made searches for Hawke's will at Doctors' Commons, and found the transcript of a brief document irregularly drawn, and disposing of a few thousand pounds, but not making mention of any American property. He next addressed himself to that world-known force, so celebrated in all the detection of crime; he described the men he sought for, and offered rewards for their discovery, carefully protesting the while that nothing but a vague suspicion attached to them.