She listened for Gilbert's coming home, then ran down to the sitting-room, and, without speaking, put the letter into his hand.

Mrs.Grail was present.
'I knew it had come,' she said, in her low voice, which of late had begun to quaver with the feebleness of age.

'Mrs.Jarmey brought it here to show me, because she guessed who it was from.' Gilbert said very few words, and when he returned the letter, Lydia went upstairs with it, to nurse the treasure in solitude.

It lay on her lap, and again and again she read it through.

Every word she probed for meanings, every stroke of the pen she dwelt on as possibly revealing something.