Ian was going next morning.

The conference was not likely to be cheerful.
Inside her boudoir, Lady Belward sank into a large chair, and let her head fall back and her eyes close.

She motioned Gaston to a seat.

Taking one near, he waited.

After a time she opened her eyes and drew herself up.
"My dear," she said, "I wish to talk with you." "I shall be very glad; but isn't it late?
and aren't you tired, grandmother ?" "I shall sleep better after," she responded, gently.