voice. She turned, however, at the foot of the staircase, and spoke to
him again.

"Let me just go and give the order for my things to be packed,
Timothy, and tell Ash to go and find out about the trains, and I will
return and listen to whatever you wish--I will, indeed. I could not
pay proper attention to anything until I knew that was being done."

Sir Timothy did not trust himself to speak. He bowed his head, and the
slender figure passed swiftly up the stairs.

Sir Timothy walked twice deliberately up and down the empty hall, and
felt his pulse. The slow, steady throb reassured him. He opened the
door of the study.

"John," said Sir Timothy, "would you kindly come out here and speak to
me for a moment? Dr. Blundell, would you have the goodness to await me
a little longer? You will find the London papers there."

"I have them," said Dr. Blundell, from the armchair by the study fire.

John Crewys closed the door behind him, and looked rather anxiously at
his cousin. It struck him that Sir Timothy had lost some of his ruddy
colour, and that his face looked drawn and old.

But the squire placed himself with his back to the log fire, and made
an effort to speak in his voice of everyday. His slightly pompous,
patronizing manner returned upon him.

"You are doubtless accustomed, John, in the course of your