’ ‘Yes, but how are you going to find her?’ ‘I will ask—’ She broke off. ” “It is a conspiracy,” she exclaimed. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. He had heard this talk before. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester.
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