THE MOONSTONE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WOMAN IN WHITE," &c. &c.
SECOND PERIOD. THE DISCOVERY OF THE
TRUTH. (1848-1849)
CHAPTER II

Mr. Godfrey followed the announcement of
his name—as Mr. Godfrey does everything else
—exactly at the right time. He was not so close
on the servant's heels as to startle us. He was
not so far behind as to cause us the double
inconvenience of a pause and an open door. It
is in the completeness of his daily life that the
true Christian appears. This dear man was
very complete.

"Go to Miss Verinder," said my aunt,
addressing the servant, "and tell her Mr.
Ablewhite is here."

We both inquired after his health. We both
asked him together whether he felt like himself
again, after his terrible adventure of the past
week. With perfect tact, he contrived to
answer us at the same moment. Lady Verinder
had his reply in words. I had his charming
smile.

"What," he cried, with infinite tenderness,
"have I done to deserve all this sympathy?
My dear aunt! my dear Miss Clack! I have
merely been mistaken for somebody else. I
have only been blindfolded; I have only been
strangled; I have only been thrown flat on my
back, on a very thin carpet, covering a
particularly hard floor. Just think how much worse
it might have been! I might have been
murdered; I might have been robbed. What have
I lost? Nothing but Nervous Force—which
the law doesn't recognise as property; so that,
strictly speaking, I have lost nothing at all. If
I could have had my own way, I would have
kept my adventure to myself—I shrink from
all this fuss and publicity. But Mr. Luker made
his injuries public, and my injuries, as the necessary
consequence, have been proclaimed in their
turn. I have become the property of the
newspapers, until the gentle reader gets sick of the
subject. I am very sick indeed of it myself.
May the gentle reader soon be like me! And
how is dear Rachel? Still enjoying the gaieties
of London? So glad to hear it! Miss Clack,
I need all your indulgence. I am sadly behindhand
with my Committee Work and my dear
Ladies. But I really do hope to look in at the
Mothers'-Small-Clothes next week. Did you
make cheering progress at Monday's
Committee? Was the Board hopeful about future
prospects? And are we nicely off for trousers?"

The heavenly gentleness of his smile made his
apologies irresistible. The richness of his deep
voice added its own indescribable charm to the
interesting business question which he had
just addressed to me. In truth, we were almost
too nicely off for trousers; we were quite
overwhelmed by them. I was just about to say so,
when the door opened again, and an element of
worldly disturbance entered the room, in the
person of Miss Verinder.

She approached dear Mr. Godfrey at a most
unladylike rate of speed, with her hair shockingly
untidy, and her face, what I should call,
unbecomingly flushed.

"I am charmed to see you, Godfrey," she
said, addressing him, I grieve to add, in the
offhand manner of one young man talking to
another. "I wish you had brought Mr. Luker
with you. You and he (as long as our present
excitement lasts) are the two most interesting
men in all London. It's morbid to say this;
it's unhealthy; it's all that a well-regulated
mind like Miss Clack's most instinctively
shudders at. Never mind that. Tell me the
whole of the Northumberland-street story
directly. I know the newspapers have left
some of it out."

Even dear Mr. Godfrey partakes of the fallen
nature which we all inherit from Adam—it is
a very small share of our human legacy, but,
alas! he has it. I confess it grieved me to see
him take Rachel's hand in both of his own
hands, and lay it softly on the left side of his
waistcoat. It was a direct encouragement to
her reckless way of talking, and her insolent
reference to me.

"Dearest Rachel," he said, in the same
voice which had thrilled me when he spoke of
our prospects and our trousers, "the
newspapers have told you everything—and they
have told it much better than I can."

"Godfrey thinks we all make too much of
the matter," my aunt remarked. "He has
just been saying that he doesn't care to speak
of it."

"Why?"

She put the question with a sudden flash in
her eyes, and a sudden look up into Mr.