Alicia recoiled from the thought of him.  But presently her curiosity prevailed, and she inquired—­

“Does he know them well?”

“He inherited a place in Scotland a number of years ago, you remember.  It is somewhere near Lord Tulliwuddle’s place—­Hech—­Hech—­Hech-something-or-other Castle.  He was very well acquainted with the last Tulliwuddle.”

“Oh,” said Alicia indifferently, “I am not really interested.  It was mere idle curiosity.”

For the greater part of twenty-four hours she kept this mystery locked within her heart, till at last she could contain it no longer.  The resolution she came to was both desperate and abruptly taken.  At five minutes to three she was resolved to die rather than mention that sprig of heather to a soul; at five minutes past she was on her way to Sir Justin Wallingford’s house.

“It may be going behind mamma’s back,” she said to herself; “but she went behind mine when she consulted Sir Justin.”

It was probably in consequence of her urgent voice and agitated manner that she came to be shown straight into Sir Justin’s library, without warning on either side, and thus surprised her counsellor in the act of softly singing a well-known hymn to the accompaniment of a small harmonium.  He seemed for a moment to be a trifle embarrassed, and the glance he threw at his footman appeared to indicate an early vacancy in his establishment; but as soon as he had recovered his customary solemnity his explanation reflected nothing but credit upon his character.

“The fact is,” said he, “that I am shortly going to rejoin my daughter in Scotland.  You are aware of her disposition, Baroness?”

“I have heard that she is inclined to be devotional.”

“She is devotional,” answered this excellent man.  “I have taken considerable pains to see to it.  As your mother and I have often agreed, there is no such safeguard for a young girl as a hobby or mania of this sort.”

“A hobby or mania?” exclaimed the Baroness in a pained voice.

Sir Justin looked annoyed.  He was evidently surprised to find that the principles inculcated by his old friend and himself appeared to outlive the occasion for which they were intended—­to wit, the protection of virgin hearts from undesirable aspirations till calm reason and a husband should render them unnecessary.

“I use the terms employed by the philosophical,” he hastened to explain; “but my own opinion is inclined to coincide with yours, my dear Alicia.”

This paternal use of her Christian name, coupled with the kindly tone of his justification, encouraged the Baroness to open her business.

“Sir Justin,” she began, “can I trust you—­may I ask you not to tell my mother that I have visited you?”

“If you can show me an adequate reason, you may rely upon my discretion,” said the ex-diplomatist cautiously, yet with an encouraging smile.