saw a head of flaming hair, and a pair of amiable blue eyes, over
the blind of a window; and it happened to be the one window of
the inn which commands a full view of your gate. Mere suspicion,
you will say! I can't deny it, and yet I have my reasons for
suspecting. Before I left London, one of my clerks followed me in
a great hurry to the terminus, and caught me as I was opening the
carriage door. 'We have just made a discovery,' he said; 'you and
Mrs. Linley are to be reckoned up.' Reckoned up is, if you
please, detective English for being watched. My clerk might have
repeated a false report, of course. And my fellow-traveler might
have come all the way from London to look out of the window of an
inn, in a Cumberland village. What do you think yourselves?"

It seemed to be easier to dispute the law than to dispute Mr.
Sarrazin's conclusions.

"Suppose I choose to travel abroad, and to take my child with
me," Mrs. Linley persisted, "who has any right to prevent me?"

Mr. Sarrazin reluctantly reminded her that the father had a
right. "No person--not even the mother--can take the child out of
the father's custody," he said, "except with the father's
consent. His authority is the supreme authority--unless it
happens that the law has deprived him of his privilege, and has
expressly confided the child to the mother's care. Ha!" cried Mr.
Sarrazin, twisting round in his chair and fixing his keen eyes on
Mrs. Presty, "look at your good mother; _she_ sees what I am
coming to."

"I see something more than you think," Mrs. Presty answered. "If