But Joe had brought her a pound of tea, and an ‘image’ for her mantelpiece, which quite satisfied her, though the image, being a Parian angel of Thorwaldsen’s, better suited his taste than its surroundings.

The whole scene served Rosamond for a narrative in her most lively style for Mrs. Poynsett’s amusement that evening.  There was the further excitement of a letter from Miles, and the assurance that he would be at home in November.  Anne had become far less chary of communications from his letters than she had at first been, but of this one she kept back so large a portion in public, that the instant Mrs. Poynsett had bidden them good night and been wheeled away, Rosamond put a hand on each shoulder, and looking into her face, said, “Now, Anne, let us hear!  Miles has found Archie Douglas.  It is no use pretending.  Fie, Mrs. Anne, why can’t you tell me?”

“I was not to tell any one but Julius.”

“Well, I’m Julius.  Besides, wasn’t I at the very bottom of the tracing him out?  Haven’t I the best right to know whether it is bad or good?”

“Not bad, I am sure,” said Julius, quickly and anxiously.

“Oh, no, not bad,” answered Anne.  “He has seen him—­had him on board for a night.”

“Where?”

“Off Durban.  But this whole sheet about it is marked ’Private—­only for Julius,’ so I could say nothing about it before your mother.  I have hardly glanced at it myself as yet, but I think he says Mr. Douglas made him promise not to tell her or Joanna Bowater.”

“Not tell Jenny!” cried Rosamond.  “And you said it was not bad.  He must have gone and married!”

“I do not think that is it,” said Anne; “but you shall hear.  Miles says:—­’I have at last seen our poor Cousin Archie.  I told you I was following up your brother Sandie’s hint about the agents for the hunters; and at last I fell in with a merchant, who, on my inquiry, showed me an invoice that I could have sworn to as in Archie’s hand, and described his white hair.  It seems he has been acting as manager on an ostrich farm for the last three years, far up the country.  So I lost no time in sending up a note to him, telling him, if he had not forgotten old times, to come down and see me while I was lying off Durban Bay.  I heard no more for ten days, and had got in the stores and was to sail the next day, thinking he had given us all up, when a boat hailed us just come over the bar.  I saw Archie’s white head, and in ten minutes I had him on deck.  ’For Heaven’s sake—­am I cleared, Miles?’ was the first thing he said; and when I could not say that he was, it went to my heart to see how the eager look sank away, and he was like a worn-down man of fifty.  Poor fellow, I found he had ridden two hundred miles, with the hope that I had brought him news that his innocence was proved, and the revulsion was almost more than he could bear.  You see, he had no notion that we thought him dead, and so he took the entire absence of any effort to trace him as acquiescence in his guilt; and when he found out how it was, he laid me under the strongest injunctions to disclose to no one that he is living—­not that he fears any results, but that he says it would only disturb every one and make them wretched—­”