Lady Janet, frowning contemptuously, interrupted the message at the outset. 'I know what the person downstairs wishes. She has sent you for a letter from me?'
'Yes, my lady.'
'Anything more?'
'She has sent one of the men-servants, my lady, for a cab. If your ladyship had only heard how she spoke to him!'
Lady Janet intimated by a sign that she would rather not hear. She at once inclosed the check in an undirected envelope.
'Take that to her,' she said, 'and then come back to me.'
Dismissing Grace Roseberry from all further consideration, Lady Janet sat, with her letter to Mercy in her hand, reflecting on her position, and on the efforts which it might still demand from her. Pursuing this train of thought, it now occurred to her that accident might bring Horace and Mercy together at any moment, and that, in Horace's present frame of mind, he would certainly insist on the very explanation which it was the foremost interest of her life to suppress. The dread of this disaster was in full possession of her when the maid returned.
'Where is Mr. Holmcroft?' she asked, the moment the woman entered the room.
'I saw him open the library door, my lady, just now, on my way upstairs.'
'Was he alone?'
'Yes, my lady.'
'Go to him, and say I want to see him here immediately.'
The maid withdrew on her second errand. Lady Janet rose restlessly, and closed the open window. Her impatient desire to make sure of Horace so completely mastered her that she left her room, and met the woman in the corridor on her return. Receiving Horace's message of excuse, she instantly sent back the peremptory rejoinder, 'Say that he will oblige me to go to him, if he persists in refusing to come to me. And, stay!' she added, remembering the undelivered letter. 'Send Miss Roseberry's maid here; I want her.'
Left alone again, Lady Janet paced once or twice up and down the corridor—then grew suddenly weary of the sight of it, and went back to her room. The two maids returned together. One of them, having announced Horace's submission, was dismissed. The other was sent to Mercy's room with Lady Janet's letter. In a minute or two the messenger appeared again, with the news that she had found the room empty.
'Have you any idea where Miss Roseberry is?'
'No, my lady.'
Lady Janet reflected for a moment. If Horace presented himself without any needless delay, the plain inference would he that she had succeeded in separating him from Mercy. If his appearance was suspiciously deferred, she decided on personally searching for Mercy in the reception rooms on the lower floor of the house.
'What have you done with the letter?' she asked.
'I left it on Miss Roseberry's table, my lady.'
'Very well. Keep within hearing of the bell, in case I want you again.'
Another minute brought Lady Janet's suspense to an end. She heard the welcome sound of a knock at her door from a man's hand. Horace hurriedly entered the room.
'What is it you want with me, Lady Janet?' he inquired, not very graciously.
'Sit down, Horace, and you shall hear.'
Horace did not accept the invitation. 'Excuse me,' he said, 'if I mention that I am rather in a hurry.'
'Why are you in a hurry?'
'I have reasons for wishing to see Grace as soon as possible.'
'And
Horace started. 'Serious reasons?' he repeated. 'You surprise me.'
'I shall surprise you still more before I have done.'
Their eyes met as Lady Janet answered in those terms. Horace observed signs of agitation in her, which he now noticed for the first time. His face darkened with an expression of sullen distrust—and he took the chair in silence.
CHAPTER XXIV. LADY JANET'S LETTER.
THE narrative leaves Lady Janet and Horace Holmcroft together, and returns to Julian and Mercy in the library.
An interval passed—a long interval, measured by the impatient reckoning of suspense—after the cab which had taken Grace Roseberry away had left the house. The minutes followed each other; and still the warning sound of Horace's footsteps was not heard on the marble pavement of the hall. By common (though unexpressed) consent, Julian and Mercy avoided touching upon the one subject on which they were now both interested alike. With their thoughts fixed secretly in vain speculation on the nature of the interview which was then taking place in Lady Janet's room, they tried to speak on topics indifferent to both of them—tried, and failed, and tried again. In a last and longest pause of silence between them, the next event happened. The door from the hall was softly and suddenly opened.
Was it Horace? No—not even yet. The person who had opened the door was only Mercy's maid.
'My lady's love, miss; and will you please to read this directly?'
