I thought it right, at this point, to mention that Miss Halcombe had already gone on to Cumberland, according to Sir Percival’s account of the matter.

“I am afraid to believe it!” answered her ladyship. “I am afraid she is still in that man’s house. If I am wrong, if she has really gone on to Limmeridge, I am resolved I will not sleep tomorrow night under Count Fosco’s roof. My dearest friend in the world, next to my sister, lives near London. You have heard me, you have heard Miss Halcombe, speak of Mrs. Vesey? I mean to write, and propose to sleep at her house. I don’t know how I shall get there⁠—I don’t know how I shall avoid the Count⁠—but to that refuge I will escape in some way, if my sister has gone to Cumberland. All I ask of you to do, is to see yourself that my letter to Mrs. Vesey goes to London tonight, as certainly as Sir Percival’s letter goes to Count Fosco. I have reasons for not trusting the postbag downstairs. Will you keep my secret, and help me in this? it is the last favour, perhaps, that I shall ever ask of you.”