CHAPTER VIII.
[A CLEW TO THE MYSTERY.]
The drama of "The Prodigal Son" was enacted over again when I returned to Marshminster. My aunts had greatly resented my sudden departure to Paris, and announced that this time intended to keep me them for some weeks. I had no objection to this arrangement, as I anticipated a long and laborious task in ferreting out evidence against Felix. The first thing to be done was to learn all that had taken place in my absence, and the information was ably supplied by Aunt Jane, seconded by her sister. I inquired about Briarfield and his fiancée.
"Bellin Hall is to be shut up next week," said Aunt Jane; "the Bellins are going to town, and with them Mr. Briarfield.
"I wonder they stayed here so long when the season was on in London," said Aunt Sophia, "but it was all that foolish Mrs. Bellin. She chose to consider herself ill, and so insisted upon remaining here. Now she can't resist the attractions of town life any longer, and goes next week."
"She has to arrange about the wedding, Sophia. You know it takes place in July. I wonder if Mr. Felix Briarfield will be back in time to be best man."
"That I can safely say is impossible," said I dryly.
"But why?" exclaimed both the old ladies, scenting news.
"Well, he has gone to Italy, and from there goes to the East," I answered, unwilling to tell the truth. "I don't see how he can return in time for the wedding if it takes place in July."
My female relatives looked significantly at one another.