"And the daughter appears but little better. By the way, Mr. Green,
Lady Kingsland desires me to fetch you back to dinner."

The rector bowed.

"Her ladyship is very good. Has your carriage gone? I will order out
the pony-phaeton, if you like."

Ten minutes later the two gentlemen were bowling along the pleasant
country road leading to the Court. It was a very silent drive, for the
baronet sat moodily staring at vacancy, his mouth set in hard, wordless
pain.

"They will tell Olivia," he was thinking, gloomily. "What will she say
to all this?"

But his fears seemed groundless. Lady Kingsland treated the matter
with cool indifference. To be sure, she had not heard quite all. A
madwoman had burst into the church, had terrified Lady Helen pretty
nearly to death with her crazy language, and had tried to tear away the
baby. That was the discreet story my lady heard, and which she was
disposed to treat with calm surprise. Baby was safe, and it had ended
in nothing; the madwoman was being properly cared for. Lady Kingsland
quietly dismissed the incident altogether before the end of dinner.

The hours of the evening wore on--very long hours to the lord of
Kingsland Court, seated at the head of his table, dispensing his
hospitalities and trying to listen to the long stories of Mr. Carlyon
and the rector.