and we did not part on the best possible terms--"

"But that is all forgotten."

"By your good offices, dear mother, who are always doing good:
and yet," continued Egremont, after a moment's pause, "I am
not disposed to write to Marney, especially to ask a favour."

"Well, I will write," said Lady Marney; "though I cannot admit
it is any favour. Perhaps it would be better that you should
see him first. I cannot understand why he keeps so at the
Abbey. I am sure I found it a melancholy place enough in my
time. I wish you had gone down there, Charles, if it had been
only for a few days."

"Well I did not, my dear mother, and I cannot go now. I shall
trust to you. But are you quite sure that the king is going
to die?"

"I repeat to you, it is certain," replied Lady Marney, in a
lowered voice, but a decided tone; "certain, certain, certain.
My authority cannot be mistaken: but no consideration in the
world must throw you off your guard at this moment; breathe
not the shadow of what you know."

At this moment a servant entered and delivered a note to Lady
Marney, who read it with an ironical smile. It was from Lady
St Julians, and ran thus:--