Hazelwell--the coast is clear."

Ulick was glad to escape from Mrs. Hoffman, and when she was left alone that good lady commenced to sum up the situation to her own satisfaction.

"They are rivals, that's what it is," she said; "and this one is worth half-a-dozen Mr. Warrens. There's no telling what men will do where a pretty face is concerned. I know what it is myself, and to think I should have thrown myself away on such a fellow as Hoffman when I might have had anybody in those days. Mrs. Warren's in my charge, and she must be careful; but I like a little bit of romancing, and it strikes me I'm likely to get it in this situation."

Ulick had a serious talk with Janet.

"Is it because Warren Courtly is the man who took you away from home that you decline to return to your father's house?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I think you are right, now I know the facts. It will be better for me not to mention having seen you; it will only make Eli uneasy and anxious to know more."

She agreed with him, and promised to write to him if necessary.

"Were you quarrelling?" he added.

"We had some words, as usual, about money matters."

"He makes you an allowance still?"

"Yes, I could not live here without, and he has a right to do it," she replied.

"Mrs. Hoffman says he seldom comes here?"

"That is true."

"I am glad," said Ulick.

"So am I. When he married Miss Carstone I made up my mind to see as little of him as possible. He promised to marry me when I ran off with him," said Janet.

"He deceived you, and deserves to suffer for it, but his wife must not be dragged into it," he said.

"She will never learn anything from me," Janet answered, earnestly.

Ulick went back to London thinking over the varied chances of the day, and wondering at the strange discovery he had made.

So it was Warren Courtly who had robbed Eli of his daughter, and allowed the blame to rest on him. He would let Warren see that he knew the truth, that much satisfaction he meant having, but Irene must be shielded no matter what happened. How different events might have turned out had he stuck to his guns and won Irene, in spite of Warren Courtly, and the suspicions surrounding himself. Had he done so, no doubt the truth would have come to light in a very short time; as it was, he must trust to his luck to clear the way for him.

CHAPTER XII.

TWO SCHEMERS.

The Squire noticed an estrangement had taken place between Irene and her husband. She was too proud to allow her real feelings to appear on the surface, but he saw below it and knew there was discord somewhere.

Redmond Maynard, since his son's departure, had led a lonely life.

Everyone in the county sympathised deeply with him, but he was not a man to be soothed with kindly words; on the contrary, they irritated him. He went about his daily avocations as usual, but it was evident he had lost much of the interest in his surroundings. Dr. Harding ordered a change, but the Squire protested he was in a perfect state of health, and that there was no occasion for him to leave Hazelwell. The doctor was an old and valued friend, in addition to being his medical attendant. He practised in various parts of the county, his connection being select and extensive. Dr. Harding's was a familiar figure in the hunting field, and when he could spare the time he was nothing loth to attend a race meeting. He was an excellent shot, and always had a standing invitation to join the parties at Hazelwell. Of late, however, visitors there had been few and far between, and Dr. Harding saw the Squire was gradually falling into a fit of despondency which boded ill for his health. He spoke to Irene about it, knowing the influence she had over him, and requested her to persuade him to go south for a time. This she did in her own winning way, promising Warren and herself would accompany him if he thought well.

"That is an inducement certainly, to have your company," he said. "I will think it over. I expect Harding has been putting you up to this,"

he added, smiling.

"Dr. Harding is only anxious about your health, and I am sure he advises you for the best," she said.

"I am aware of that," replied the Squire; "but we do not always follow the advice we ask. It is foolish, of course, and we ought to obey the doctor when we call him in. I rather fancy a change would do you good, Irene, you are not happy."

She looked troubled and said quickly--

"You are mistaken, I am perfectly happy; I have everything to make me contented."

"Has Warren been behaving himself lately?" he asked.

"He always behaves himself," was her answer.

"I am glad you think so; I do not," he said gruffly. "Warren is going the pace, and you know it."

His anxiety about Irene caused him for a time to forget his own troubles.

Eli Todd watched the Squire, and noted how worn and aged he was growing.

This caused him many qualms of conscience; he knew the cause, and would have liked to remove it. He wrote a long letter to Ulick, telling him how his father's health suffered, and begging him to return. This caused him to wonder if he was doing right in remaining away. Now that he knew everything connected with Janet's disappearance from home, he felt it was impossible for him to go to Hazelwell and meet Irene, as he was sure to do. He wrote to Eli, explaining as well as he could that it was impossible for him to return at present, but circ.u.mstances might arise which would enable him to do so at no distant date. With this Eli had to rest contented, but he would have preferred something more definite.

It was shortly after the Saint's great race with Pinkerton at Kempton that the Squire came into Eli's cottage and sat down for a chat. Eli gave him full particulars of all the mares and youngsters in the stud, and said there would be some good prices realised at Doncaster in September.

"Honeysuckle's foal will be a tip-topper," said Eli. "He'll run well into four figures."

"I shall not sell him," replied the Squire.

Eli was glad to hear this; it meant the Squire thought of racing again.

"Shall you have him trained?" he asked.

"Yes, it is some time since I gave Fred May a turn. By the way, he has got hold of a champion in the Saint. That must have been a splendid race at Kempton. I wonder who Mr. Lanark is?"

"A new recruit to the turf," said Eli, smiling, "and he has made a rare good start." "He little thinks his son owns the Saint," thought Eli.

"He has got into the right hands. Fred May is thoroughly honest. Mr.

Lanark, whoever he is, may congratulate himself. I wonder if he would sell the Saint?" said the Squire, half to himself.

Eli smiled; he thought it would be a curious thing if the Squire bought his son's horse. It occurred to him this might be the means of bringing them together.

"I should think it would be a difficult matter to induce him to part with him," said Eli.

"There can be no harm in trying," said the Squire. "I like the Saint's breeding; he would do well for the stud."

"Why not run down to Fred May's and see what can be done?" said Eli. "It will be a change for you."