“Give me my maps, if you please, and tell Mr. Havard I wish to speak to him for a few minutes.”

When he had left the room, Hamilton turned the letter in every possible direction, examined the seal, which was a small coronet with the initials “A. Z.,” read it five or six times over, and in thought mustered his tolerably numerous acquaintance. Not an “A. Z.” among them all! How very provoking! “And yet the letter may be intended for me,” he murmured, twisting it around his fingers: “It is not impossible that the writer may have thought that I was travelling with my aunt—why not? And John has actually joined his regiment very lately!—or—or—it may be some friend of my father’s; in which case, as I do not know the name, and cannot explain by letter, I consider it a sort of duty to go to Seon, and in his name thank the good-natured person for the invitation. But what if it were not intended either for me or for my father? No matter. The letter is addressed to A. Hamilton, Esq.; if the writer intended it for an Abraham, an Achilles, or an Anthony, the fault is not mine. Alfred also begins with A.; the address is to the Golden Stag; my correspondent has seen my name or my father’s in the newspapers;—mentions my mother and my brother. What more can I require?”

And Hamilton required nothing more, for on this occasion he was disposed to be easily satisfied. Besides, he was not going to force himself upon any person or persons unknown; he was merely going to Seon instead of Kissingen. Seon was also a place of public resort, quite as desirable for him as any other; nor could he see anything wrong in making some inquiries about this A. Z. when he arrived there.

Mr. Havard entered his room just as he was resolved what course he should pursue. “Pray, Mr. Havard, can you tell me how far Seon is from here?”

“A day’s journey, if you travel with a voiturier; half a day with post-horses.”

“If I engage a voiturier—are the carriages good?”

“Generally, especially if you don’t require much place for luggage. I think I can procure a light carriage and tolerable horses for you.”

“Thank you. To-morrow morning, at six o’clock, I should like to be off, if possible.”

An unpleasant idea just then occurred to him, and it required an effort on his part to add, with affected indifference:

“By-the-by, Mr. Havard, perhaps you can tell me if there have been any persons here lately whose names were the 

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