me without a word!"

"Perhaps this step was taken with your connivance after all?" said Sir
Timothy, suspiciously. He could not follow her rapid changes of mood,
and had listened resentfully to her defence of her son.

"Timothy!" said Lady Mary, trembling, "when have I ever been disloyal
to you in word or deed?"

"Never, I hope," said Sir Timothy. His voice shook a little. "I do
not doubt you for a moment, Mary. But you spoke with such strange
vehemence, so unlike your usual propriety of manner."

She broke into a wild laugh which pained and astonished him.

"Did I? I must have forgotten myself for a moment."

"You must, indeed. Pray be calm. I understand that this must be a
terrible shock to you."

"It is not a shock," said Lady Mary, defiantly. "I glory in it. I--I
_wish_ him to go. Oh, Peter, my darling!"

She hid her face in her hands.

"It would be more to the purpose," said Sir Timothy, "to consider what
is to be done."

"Could we stop him?" she cried eagerly, and then changed once more.
"No, no; I wouldn't if I could. He would never forgive me."