“Sarah,” said Dr. Blundell, gently, “don’t you see that Lady Mary can’t attend to you now?  Come away, like a good girl.”

He took her arm, and led her out of the hall; and Sarah forgot she had grown up the day before yesterday, and sobbed loudly as she went away.

Lady Mary lifted the miniature from the table, and looked at it without a word; but from the sofa, the two old sisters babbled audibly to each other.

“I always said, Isabella, that if poor Mary spoilt Peter so terribly, something would happen to him.”

“What sad nonsense you talk, Georgina.  Nothing has happened to him—­yet.”

“He has defied his father, Isabella.”

“He has obeyed his country’s call, Georgina.  Had the admiral been alive, he would certainly have volunteered.”

John Crewys made an involuntary step forward and placed himself between the sofa and the table, as though to shield Lady Mary from their observation, but he could not prevent their words from reaching her ears.

She whispered to him very softly.  “Will you get the letter for me?  I want to see—­for myself—­what—­what Peter says.”

“Go quietly into the library,” said John, bending over her for a moment.  “I will bring it you there immediately.”

She obeyed him without a word.

John turned to the sofa.  “I beg your pardon, canon,” he said courteously, “but Lady Mary cannot bear this suspense.  Allow me to take her son’s letter to her at once.”

“I—­I am only waiting for Sir Timothy.  It is to him I have to break the news; though, of course, there is nothing that Lady Mary may not know,” said the canon, in a polite but flurried tone.  “I really should not like—­”

“My brother must see it first,” said Miss Crewys, decidedly.

“Exactly.  I am sure Sir Timothy would not be pleased if—­Bless my soul!”

For John, with a slight bow of apology, and his grave air of authority, had quietly taken the letter from the canon’s undecided fingers, and walked away with it into the library.

“How very oddly our cousin John behaves!” said Lady Belstone, indignantly.  “Almost snatching the letter from your hand.”

“Depend upon it, Mary inspired his action,” said Miss Crewys, angrily.  “I saw her whispering away to him.  A man she never set eyes on before.”

“Pray are we not to hear the contents?” said Lady Belstone, quivering with indignation.

“I suppose he thinks Lady Mary should make the communication herself to Sir Timothy,” gasped the canon.  “I am sure I have no desire to fulfil so unpleasing a task.  Still, the matter was entrusted to me.  However, the main substance has been told; there can be no further secret about it.  My only care was that Sir Timothy should not be unduly agitated.”

“It is a comfort to find that some one can consider the feelings of our poor brother,” said Miss Crewys.