"Oh, something awful, I guess."

The next moment caution succeeded fear. She sprang to her feet and ran
across the room. That tell-tale mark was still on the mirror, for nurse
or governess to see and question. And it was advisable that no one
should learn the unhappy truth. Her handkerchief was damp with tears.
She gathered the tiny square of linen into a tight ball and rubbed at
the ink-line industriously.

She was not a moment too soon. Scarcely had she regained the
window-seat, when the hall door opened and Thomas appeared on the sill,
almost filling the opening with his tall figure. As a rule he wore his
very splendid footman's livery of dark blue coat with dull-gold buttons,
blue trousers, and striped buff waistcoat. Now he wore street clothes,
and he had a leash in his hand.

"Is Jane about, Miss Gwendolyn?" he inquired. Then, seeing that
Gwendolyn was alone, "Would you mind tellin' her when she comes that I'm
out takin' the Madam's dogs for a walk?"

Gwendolyn had a new thought. "A--a walk?" she repeated. And stood up.

"But tell Jane, if you please," continued he, "that I'll be back in time
to go--well, _she_ knows where." This was said significantly. He turned.

"Thomas!" Gwendolyn hastened across to him. "Wait till I put on my hat.
I'm--I'm going with you." Her riding-hat lay among the dainty
pink-and-white articles on her crystal-topped dressing-table. She caught
it up.