"Oh, it's you," she said.

"Is there anything the matter, Aunt Emily?" asked Cynthia.

"Certainly not," said Mrs. Inglethorp sharply. "What should
there be?" Then catching sight of Dorcas, the parlourmaid, going
into the dining-room, she called to her to bring some stamps into
the boudoir.

"Yes, m'm." The old servant hesitated, then added diffidently:
"Don't you think, m'm, you'd better get to bed? You're looking
very tired."

"Perhaps you're right, Dorcas--yes--no--not now. I've some
letters I must finish by post-time. Have you lighted the fire in
my room as I told you?"

"Yes, m'm."

"Then I'll go to bed directly after supper."

She went into the boudoir again, and Cynthia stared after her.

"Goodness gracious! I wonder what's up?" she said to Lawrence.

He did not seem to have heard her, for without a word he turned
on his heel and went out of the house.

I suggested a quick game of tennis before supper and, Cynthia