"But that's no use for to-night, and Groombridge will be simply furious
if I ask him to interfere without telling him how much it comes to.
Billy won't say a word."

"I think," said Rose very slowly, "that if we all go to bed now, we
shall have some bright idea in the morning."

Before this master-stroke of suggestion had reached Lady Groombridge's
brain, a very low voice came from the window.

"Would you like me to go and ask her?"

The hostess started; she had forgotten Miss Molly Dexter. A little dull
blush rose to her forehead.

"Oh dear, I had forgotten you were there; but, after all, she is no
relation of yours, and it isn't your fault, you know. Could you--would
you really not mind asking her?"

"I don't mind at all. Might I take your candle?"

"Of course," said Lady Groombridge, "you won't, don't you know----"

"Say that you sent me?" The low, detached voice betrayed no sarcasm. She
knew perfectly well that Lady Groombridge disliked being beholden to her
at that moment. It was rather amusing to make her so.

For fifteen minutes after that the travelling clock by Lady Rose's bed
ticked loudly, and drowned the faint murmur of her prayers while she