The messenger returned with good news. Mr. Arthur had been as merry as
usual. He had made fun of another letter of good advice, received
without a signature. "But Mrs. Lewson must have her way," he said. "My
love to the old dear--I'll start two hours later, and be back to dinner
at five."

"Where did Mr. Arthur give you that message?" Iris inquired.

"At the stables, Miss, while I was putting up the horse. The men about
were all on the broad grin when they heard Mr. Arthur's message."

Still in a morbid state of mind, Iris silently regretted that the
message had not been written, instead of being delivered by word of
mouth. Here, again, she (like the wild lord) had been afraid of
listeners.

The hours wore slowly on until it was past four o'clock. Iris could
endure the suspense no longer. "It's a lovely afternoon," she said to
Mrs. Lewson. "Let us take a walk along the road, and meet Arthur." To
this proposal the housekeeper readily agreed.

It was nearly five o'clock when they reached a place at which a by-road
branched off, through a wood, from the highway which they had hitherto
followed. Mrs. Lewson found a seat on a felled tree. "We had better not
go any farther," she said.

Iris asked if there was any reason for this.

There was an excellent reason. A few yards farther on, the high road
had been diverted from the straight line (in the interest of a large