myself by a few minutes of needful and welcome silence. The servant who had been despatched to trace Anne Catherick and Mrs. Clements returned with his report, and was shown into the dining-room immediately.
“Well,” said Mr. Gilmore, “what have you found out?”
“I have found out, sir,” answered the man, “that both the women took tickets at our station here for Carlisle.”
“You went to Carlisle, of course, when you heard that?”
“I did, sir, but I am sorry to say I could find no further trace
from me so hopefully on that last happy night in the Hampstead cottage!
Anne Catherick again! Even the memory of the farewell evening with my mother and my sister could not return to me now unconnected with that other memory of the moonlight walk back to London. What did it mean? Were that woman and