Robert returned, and waited near his mistress, with the directed envelope in his hand.

Felix sauntered back slowly towards the picture-gallery, for the third time.

In a moment more Lady Lydiard finished her letter, and folded up the bank-note in it.

She had just taken the directed envelope from Moody, and had just placed the letter inside it, when a scream from the inner room, in which Isabel was nursing the sick dog, startled everybody.

"My Lady! my Lady!" cried the girl, distractedly, "Tommie is in a fit?
Tommie is dying!" Lady Lydiard dropped the unclosed envelope on the table, and ran--yes, short as she was and fat as she was, ran--into the inner room.