“I had an object, Sir Patrick.  And I have failed to accomplish it.”

“May I ask what it was?”

“It was to see Geoffrey Delamayn.”

Sir Patrick started.  “You have attempted to see him! When?”

“This morning.”

“Why, you only arrived in London last night!”

“I only arrived,” said Anne, “after waiting many days on the journey.  I was obliged to rest at Edinburgh, and again at York—­and I was afraid I had given Mrs. Glenarm time enough to get to Geoffrey Delamayn before me.”

“Afraid?” repeated Sir Patrick.  “I understood that you had no serious intention of disputing the scoundrel with Mrs. Glenarm.  What motive could possibly have taken you his way?”

“The same motive which took me to Swanhaven.”

“What! the idea that it rested with Delamayn to set things right? and that you might bribe him to do it, by consenting to release him, so far as your claims were concerned?”

“Bear with my folly, Sir Patrick, as patiently as you can!  I am always alone now; and I get into a habit of brooding over things.  I have been brooding over the position in which my misfortunes have placed Mr. Brinkworth.  I have been obstinate—­unreasonably obstinate—­in believing that I could prevail with Geoffrey Delamayn, after I had failed with Mrs. Glenarm.  I am obstinate about it still.  If he would only have heard me, my madness in going to Fulham might have had its excuse.”  She sighed bitterly, and said no more.

Sir Patrick took her hand.

“It has its excuse,” he said, kindly.  “Your motive is beyond reproach.  Let me add—­to quiet your mind—­that, even if Delamayn had been willing to hear you, and had accepted the condition, the result would still have been the same.  You are quite wrong in supposing that he has only to speak, and to set this matter right.  It has passed entirely beyond his control.  The mischief was done when Arnold Brinkworth spent those unlucky hours with you at Craig Fernie.”

“Oh, Sir Patrick, if I had only known that, before I went to Fulham this morning!”

She shuddered as she said the words.  Something was plainly associated with her visit to Geoffrey, the bare remembrance of which shook her nerves.  What was it?  Sir Patrick resolved to obtain an answer to that question, before he ventured on proceeding further with the main object of the interview.

“You have told me your reason for going to Fulham,” he said.  “But I have not heard what happened there yet.”

Anne hesitated.  “Is it necessary for me to trouble you about that?” she asked—­with evident reluctance to enter on the subject.

“It is absolutely necessary,” answered Sir Patrick, “because Delamayn is concerned in it.”

Anne summoned her resolution, and entered on her narrative in these words: