Giving the trim little servant his card, Mr. Troy was introduced to a reception-room on the lower floor.  Before he had time to look round him the door was opened again from without, and Isabel stole into the room on tiptoe.  She looked worn and anxious.  When she shook hands with the old lawyer the charming smile that he remembered so well was gone.

“Don’t say you have seen me,” she whispered.  “I am not to come into the room till my aunt sends for me.  Tell me two things before I run away again.  How is Lady Lydiard?  And have you discovered the thief?”

“Lady Lydiard was well when I last saw her; and we have not yet succeeded in discovering the thief.”  Having answered the questions in those terms, Mr. Troy decided on cautioning Isabel on the subject of the steward while he had the chance.  “One question on my side,” he said, holding her back from the door by the arm.  “Do you expect Moody to visit you here?”

“I am sure he will visit me,” Isabel answered warmly.  “He has promised to come here at my request.  I never knew what a kind heart Robert Moody had till this misfortune fell on me.  My aunt, who is not easily taken with strangers, respects and admires him.  I can’t tell you how good he was to me on the journey here—­and how kindly, how nobly, he spoke to me when we parted.”  She paused, and turned her head away.  The tears were rising in her eyes.  “In my situation,” she said faintly, “kindness is very keenly felt.  Don’t notice me, Mr. Troy.”

The lawyer waited a moment to let her recover herself.

“I agree entirely, my dear, in your opinion of Moody,” he said.  “At the same time, I think it right to warn you that his zeal in your service may possibly outrun his discretion.  He may feel too confidently about penetrating the mystery of the missing money; and, unless you are on your guard, he may raise false hopes in you when you next see him.  Listen to any advice that he may give you, by all means.  But, before you decide on being guided by his opinion, consult my older experience, and hear what I have to say on the subject.  Don’t suppose that I am attempting to make you distrust this good friend,” he added, noticing the look of uneasy surprise which Isabel fixed on him.  “No such idea is in my mind.  I only warn you that Moody’s eagerness to be of service to you may mislead him.  You understand me.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Isabel coldly; “I understand you.  Please let me go now.  My aunt will be down directly; and she must not find me here.”  She curtseyed with distant respect, and left the room.

“So much for trying to put two ideas together into a girl’s mind!” thought Mr. Troy, when he was alone again.  “The little fool evidently thinks I am jealous of Moody’s place in her estimation.  Well!  I have done my duty—­and I can do no more.”