None the less was Edward Conroy determined to fathom the mystery of the north wing; if it were possible for man to do so.
[CHAPTER VII.]
A STRANGER AT THE ROSE AND CROWN
Mrs. Carlyon sat in the breakfast-room of her pleasant house at Bayswater, planning out in her own mind the route she should take on her journey to Hyères, for which place she intended to depart ere many days had elapsed, when the morning letters were brought in. One of them was from her niece, Ella Winter. Mrs. Carlyon opened it, and sat transfixed at the news it contained: nothing less than an avowal from that young lady that she was engaged to be married to Edward Conroy.
The shock and surprise sent Mrs. Carlyon into Norfolk. She gave orders to her maid, Higson, to prepare for their instant departure.
"And it is just as well that I should go on another score," she told herself, as she stepped into her carriage to be driven to the station: "to ascertain whether my niece has relinquished that most absurd idea of hers--that she is not her Uncle Gilbert's legal inheritor. What a ridiculous world we live in!"
So, at a late hour that same evening, Mrs. Carlyon, with her maid, arrived at Heron Dyke--without any notice.
"Your letter, Ella, took my breath away," she began, hardly allowing herself a moment for greetings. "Has this engagement which you tell me of really gone so far that it cannot be broken off?"
"But who wants it to be broken off, Aunt Gertrude?" returned Ella.
"What! Consider, my dear--a newspaper reporter, for Mr. Conroy is neither more nor less than that. A very nice gentlemanly young man, I admit, and one who has made himself a name in a certain way, but scarcely a match for the heiress of Heron Dyke."