"He comes up by this evening's train; will be in London late to-night, if
the snow allows him, and stay with us until Sunday night," replied Val.
"Oh! _That's_ no doubt the reason why you settled the christening for
Saturday: that your friend might have the benefit of Sunday?"
"Just so, madam."
And Lady Hartledon knew, by this, that her husband must have read the
letters. "I wonder what he has done with them?" came the mental thought,
shadowing forth a dim wish that she could read them too.
In the drawing-room, after dinner, someone proposed a carpet quadrille,
but Lord Hartledon seemed averse to it. In his wife's present mood, his
opposition was, of course, the signal for her approval, and she began
pushing the chairs aside with her own hands. He approached her quietly.
"Maude, do not let them dance to-night."
"Why not?"
"I have a reason. My dear, won't you oblige me in this?"
"Tell me the reason, and perhaps I will; not otherwise."
"I will tell it you another time. Trust me, I have a good one. What is
it, Hedges?"
The butler had come up to his master in the unobtrusive manner of a
well-trained servant, and was waiting an opportunity to speak. He said a
word in Lord Hartledon's ear, and Lady Hartledon saw a shiver of surprise
run through her husband. He looked here, looked there, as one perplexed
with fear, and finally went out of the room with a calm face, but one
that was turning livid.
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