I kept my spirits from sinking by sticking fast to my pipe and my

ROBINSON CRUSOE. The women (excepting Penelope) beguiled the time by

talking of Rosanna's suicide. They were all obstinately of opinion

that the poor girl had stolen the Moonstone, and that she had destroyed

herself in terror of being found out. My daughter, of course, privately

held fast to what she had said all along. Her notion of the motive which

was really at the bottom of the suicide failed, oddly enough, just

where my young lady's assertion of her innocence failed also. It left

Rosanna's secret journey to Frizinghall, and Rosanna's proceedings in

the matter of the nightgown entirely unaccounted for. There was no

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use in pointing this out to Penelope; the objection made about as much

impression on her as a shower of rain on a waterproof coat. The truth

is, my daughter inherits my superiority to reason--and, in respect to

that accomplishment, has got a long way ahead of her own father.

On the next day (Sunday), the close carriage, which had been kept at Mr.

Ablewhite's, came back to us empty. The coachman brought a message for

me, and written instructions for my lady's own maid and for Penelope.

The message informed me that my mistress had determined to take Miss

Rachel to her house in London, on the Monday. The written instructions

informed the two maids of the clothing that was wanted, and directed

them to meet their mistresses in town at a given hour. Most of the other

servants were to follow. My lady had found Miss Rachel so unwilling to

return to the house, after what had happened in it, that she had decided

on going to London direct from Frizinghall. I was to remain in the

country, until further orders, to look after things indoors and out. The

servants left with me were to be put on board wages.

Being reminded, by all this, of what Mr. Franklin had said about our

being a scattered and disunited household, my mind was led naturally to

Mr. Franklin himself. The more I thought of him, the more uneasy I felt

about his future proceedings. It ended in my writing, by the Sunday's

post, to his father's valet, Mr. Jeffco (whom I had known in former

years) to beg he would let me know what Mr. Franklin had settled to do,

on arriving in London.

The Sunday evening was, if possible, duller even than the Saturday

evening. We ended the day of rest, as hundreds of thousands of people

end it regularly, once a week, in these islands--that is to say, we all

anticipated bedtime, and fell asleep in our chairs.

How the Monday affected the rest of the household I don't know. The

Monday gave ME a good shake up. The first of Sergeant Cuff's

prophecies of what was to happen--namely, that I should hear from the

Yollands--came true on that day.




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