"I had a little business that way, and called upon her," replied Sara. She was obliged to speak: there was no help for it; and all the room seemed to be listening to her answer, which she had not time to weigh.
"Business down that way!" echoed Caroline. "Why, it is in the City! What business could you have there?"
"Not much: nothing of moment to you, Caroline;" and Sara, in her dismay and fear, turned and began talking rapidly to old Dr. Ford.
"Aunt Bettina," called out Mrs. Cray, in a slow distinct voice, "what business took Sara to the City this morning? I thought only gentlemen went there."
Aunt Bettina heard, and lifted her hand in momentary petulance, as if the subject angered her.
"You must not ask me. Sara has her own secrets and goes her own ways since your uncle's death. I am not allowed to know them."
Sara looked up to reply, perhaps to defend herself; but she remembered what was at stake, and forced herself to silence. Better that the blame should lie upon her! She had caught a momentary glimpse of Mr. Oswald Cray: he was leaning against a table in the distance, his eyes fixed upon her, reading every change in her countenance; his own face stern and impassive.
What more would have been said or asked was interrupted by the entrance of another guest. A middle-sized man of thirty, with radish hair and whiskers, a free manner and voluble tongue. Mark started forward with a shout of welcome, and introduced him to the strangers. It was Mr. Barker.
"I have brought up the grandest news, Cray," he exclaimed, in a state of excitement. "There's another lode found."
"No!" echoed Mark, his eyes sparkling. "Another lode?"