His face suddenly lightened.

"I was about to say that either I or a messenger from the Bank will be here every day, and whoever comes can take any orders you and Mrs. Grant may have for town. This will save Michael's going in so often. I will get you a letter-bag. You shall keep one key and I the other, so there will be no danger of letters getting lost. In old times Michael was, of course, as safe as the post; but now we shall have comparative strangers—clerks and so on—whose honesty has not been so well tried as Michael's."

Soon he took his leave. Next day he did not call, but a clerk came with a letter-bag and a key. There was nothing in the bag. Miss Midharst had no letters. One from Mrs. Grant went back to town. That was all.

When the clerk got to the Bank, he handed the bag to the banker. The banker opened it, glanced at the one letter it contained, smiled, put Mrs. Grant's among his own letters for post, and whispered to himself: "Everything is fair in love and war. If this had been Maud's, I should have had just one peep."

Now he began to visit the Castle almost daily. The men had not yet been set to work, but already the furniture makers and upholsterers were busy in the work-shops. Hangings had been ordered at Paris; designers were carrying out plans for restoring the great banqueting-hall to its olden splendour; brass-founders were casting fittings; and gardeners had inspected the grounds with a view to ascertaining their capabilities.

At first Grey made it a point not to see Maud every time he called. By the end of a month he was at the Island six days out of the seven, and never left without seeing her.

During that month she had twice written to her cousin. He had carried the letters from her to the Bank, and there opened and read them. He closed them and sent them on. There had been nothing particular in either, beyond copious praise of Grey's great kindness to her, and his ceaseless attention to the business of her cousin.

So far all went well. He continued in good spirits, and the people of Daneford said he had never looked better or seemed gayer.

His mother's place had been sold out, and she had gone he knew not whither.

"That is all the better," he thought. "The stage is clearer, and nothing remains to distract my attention from the main thing."