came a knock at the door, and Mary Woodruff, a wax-taper in her
hand, entered to light the gas. Having drawn the blind, and given a
glance round to see that everything was in order, she addressed
Nancy, her tone perfectly respectful, though she used no formality.

'Martha has been asking me whether she can go out to-morrow night
for an hour or two.'

'You don't wish to go yourself?' Miss. Lord returned, her voice
significant of life-long familiarity.

'Oh no!'

And Mary showed one of her infrequent smiles.

'She may go immediately after dinner, and be away till half-past
ten.'

The servant bent her head, and withdrew. As soon as she was gone,
Horace laughed.

'There you are! What did father say?'

Nancy was silent.

'Well, I'm going to have a word with him,' continued the young man,
sauntering towards the door with his hands in his pockets. He looked
exceedingly nervous. 'When I come back, I may have something to tell
you.'