I must go to the Professor at once--something dreadful has happened." So Priscilla went and contrived so that she got Halcyone out of the front door while the servants were busy in the dining-room about the breakfast.

She hailed a passing hansom, and in this, to the poor child, novel conveyance, she was whirled safely to Cheiron's little hotel in Jermyn Street, and Priscilla returned to her room, to make believe that her nursling was still sleeping.
"Halcyone! My child!" the Professor exclaimed, to gain time, and then he decided to help her out, so he went on: "I am glad to see you, but am very distressed at the news in the paper this morning about John Derringham--you may have seen it--and I am sure will sympathize with me." Halcyone's piteous eyes thanked him.
"Yes, indeed," she said.

"What does it mean?
Ought not--we--you to go to him ?" Mr.Carlyon avoided looking at her.
"I cannot very well do that in Mrs.Cricklander's house," he said, tugging at his beard, to hide the emotion he felt.

"But I will telegraph this minute and ask for news, if you will give me the forms--they are over there," and he pointed to his writing-table.
She handed them immediately, and as he adjusted his spectacles she rang the bell; no time must be lost, and the waiter could be there before the words were completed.
"When can you get the answer ?" she asked a little breathlessly.
"In two hours, I should think, or perhaps three," the Professor returned.

"But there is a telephone downstairs--it has just been put in.
We might telephone to his rooms, or to the Foreign Office, and find out if they have heard any further news there.