CHAPTER XXIV.

SELLING A SECRET. On a sunny day in January, a traveling coach crunched up the drive to Castle Brand, and produced a visitor for Miss Walsingham. The Waaste, so broad and rolling, looked well in its garb of snow, in which the late New Year had wed it; and along the drive the phinny firs and silver holly-bushes were piled with molded purity, while every creamy nymph in stone or stucco wore a crown of brightness. The turrets even of the hoary castle were fringed with diamond stalactites, from which dropped liquid pea…