"Margaret Stanbourne."
The perusal of this letter brought light into Robert Streightley's eyes and comfort to his heart. For the first time since Katharine's departure he felt that there was a chance of recovering her for himself, of seeing her once again, and telling her all he had suffered--all he hoped. His heart beat violently as these thoughts came across him, and he trembled from the intensity of his feelings. He would have gone at once to Yeldham's chambers and shown him the letter; but he felt unable to move, and remained for a few minutes panting and palpitating in his chair. He was weak and dizzy, and had a strange oppressive feeling that he should die before he could get upon the clue just given him. But after a short time these feelings passed away, and he managed to rouse himself and drive to the Temple, where he found Charley, as usual, hard at his 'treadmill.'
As his friend entered the room, Yeldham looked up from his writing, uttered a short cry of alarm, and came hurriedly towards him.
"What's the matter with you, Robert?" he said,--"white as a ghost, dark circles round your eyes--what the deuce is it? No bad news?"
"No, Charley, I'm all right--or shall be in a minute; a little knocked down by what's in this letter. I think there's something in it--some clue at last. Read it, and tell me how it strikes you."
Charles Yeldham took the letter and read it through carefully; then put it down, and looked across at his friend.
"Well?" said Streightley, anxiously.
"Well, Robert, of course it's a new light, and--and there may be something in it; but I'm not very much impressed. I scarcely think--but then I know so little, that I'm not a fair judge--that a convent's exactly the place to which a lady of Mrs. Streightley's temperament would retire. However, of course one can send over and ascertain."
"Send over!" cried Robert; "nothing of the kind. I think far more highly than you seem to do, Yeldham, of this information. I think so highly of it, that I shall start at once for Paris, and pursue the track."
"You? No, Robert, I would not do that. You're not well, my good fellow; you're not strong; any excitement of this kind might knock you up, and that would never do, you know."