''Tis only a matter of time,' said the calm young philosopher.

The next morning he lay till near ten o'clock, and he had only just
come out upon the head of the staircase when he heard hoofs upon the
gravel without; in a few moments the door had been opened, and Sir
John Grebe met him in the hall, as he set foot on the lowest stair.

'My lord--where's Barbara--my daughter?'

Even the Earl of Uplandtowers could not repress amazement. 'What's
the matter, my dear Sir John,' says he.

The news was startling, indeed. From the Baronet's disjointed
explanation Lord Uplandtowers gathered that after his own and the
other guests' departure Sir John and Lady Grebe had gone to rest
without seeing any more of Barbara; it being understood by them that
she had retired to bed when she sent word to say that she could not
join the dancers again. Before then she had told her maid that she
would dispense with her services for this night; and there was
evidence to show that the young lady had never lain down at all, the
bed remaining unpressed. Circumstances seemed to prove that the
deceitful girl had feigned indisposition to get an excuse for
leaving the ball-room, and that she had left the house within ten
minutes, presumably during the first dance after supper.

'I saw her go,' said Lord Uplandtowers.

'The devil you did!' says Sir John.

'Yes.' And he mentioned the retreating carriage-lights, and how he