“Couldn’t you say something to her, Crow, dear?  We are all so awfully fond of Tristram, and there does seem some tragedy hanging over them that ought to be stopped at once.  Couldn’t you, Crow?”

But Colonel Lowerby shook his head.

“It is too confoundedly ticklish,” he grunted.  “It might do some good, and it might just do the other thing.  It is too dangerous to interfere.”

“Well, you have made me thoroughly uncomfortable,” Lady Anningford said.  “I shall get hold of him to-night, and see what I can do.”

“Then, mind you are careful, Queen Anne—­that is all that I can say,” and at that moment, the Duke joining them, the tete-a-tete broke up.

Zara had not appeared at tea.  She said she was very tired, and would rest until dinner.  If she had been there, her uncle had meant to take her aside into one of the smaller sitting-rooms, and tell her the piece of information he deemed it now advisable for her to know; but as she did not appear, or Tristram, either, he thought after all they might be together, and his interference would be unnecessary.  But he decided, if he saw the same frigid state of things at dinner, he would certainly speak to her after it; and relieved from duty, he went once more to find his lady love in her sitting-room.

“Francis!” she whispered, as he held her next his heart for a moment.  “You must not stay ten minutes, for Lady Anningford or Lady Melton is sure to come in—­Anne, especially, who has been looking at me with such reproachful eyes, for having neglected her all this, our last afternoon.”

“I care not for a thousand Annes, Ethelrida mine!” he said softly, as he kissed her.  “If she does come, will it matter?  Would you rather she did not guess anything yet, my dearest?”

“Yes—­” said Ethelrida, “—­I don’t want any one to know, until you have told my father,—­will you do so to-night—­or wait until to-morrow?  I—­I can’t—­I feel so shy—­and he will be so surprised.”  She did not add her secret fear that her parent might be very angry.

They had sat down upon the sofa now, under the light of their kindly gray owl; and Francis Markrute contented himself with caressing his lady’s hair, as he answered: 

“I thought of asking the Duke, if I might stay until the afternoon train, as I had something important to discuss with him, and then wait and see him quietly, when all the others have gone, if that is what you would wish, my sweet.  I will do exactly as you desire about all things.  I want you to understand that.  You are to have your own way in everything in life.”

“You know very well that I should never want it, if it differed from yours, Francis.”  What music he found in his name!  “You are so very wise, it will be divine to let you guide me!” Which tender speech showed that the gentle Ethelrida had none of the attitude of the modern bride.

And thus it was arranged.  The middle-aged, but boyishly-in-love, fiance was to tackle his future father-in-law in the morning’s light; and to-night, let the household sleep in peace!