“How very mysterious!” piped Laura.  “Tristram is off to Paris, too, then, I suppose?”

“He did not say; he seemed in the deuce of a hurry and put the receiver down.”

“He is probably only doing it for money, poor darling boy!” she said sympathetically.  “It was quite necessary for him.”

“Oh, that’s not Tristram’s measure,” Sir James Danvers interrupted.  “He’d never do anything for money.  I thought you knew him awfully well,” he added, surprised.  Apprehension of situations was not one of his strong qualities.

“Of course I do!” Laura snapped out and then laughed.  “But you men!  Money would tempt any of you!”

“You may bet your last farthing, Lady Highford, Tristram is in love—­crazy, if you ask me—­he’d not have been so silent about it all otherwise.  The Canada affair was probably because she was playing the poor old chap,—­and now she’s given in; and that, of course, is chucked.”

Money, as the motive, Lady Highford could have borne, but, to hear about love drove her wild!  Her little pink and white face with its carefully arranged childish setting suddenly looked old and strained, while her eyes grew yellow in the light.

“They won’t be happy long, then!” she said.  “Tristram could not be faithful to any one.”

“I don’t think he’s ever been in love before, so we can’t judge,” the blundering cousin continued, now with malice prepense.  “He’s had lots of little affairs, but they have only been ‘come and go.’”

Lady Highford crumbled her bread and then turned to the Duke—­there was nothing further to be got out of this quarter.  Finally luncheon came to an end, and the three ladies went up to Ethelrida’s sitting-room.  Mrs. Radcliffe presently took her leave to catch a train, so the two were left alone.

“I am so looking forward to your party, dear Ethelrida,” Lady Highford cooed.  “I am going back to Hampshire to-morrow, but at the end of the month I come up again and will be with you in Norfolk on the 2nd.”

“I was just wondering,” said Lady Ethelrida, “if, after all, you would not be bored, Laura?  Your particular friends, the Sedgeworths, have had to throw us over—­his father being dead.  It will be rather a family sort of collection, and not so amusing this year, I am afraid.  Em and Mary, Tristram and his new bride,—­and Mr. Markrute, the uncle—­and the rest as I told you.”

“Why, my dear child, it sounds delightful!  I shall long to meet the new Lady Tancred!  Tristram and I are such dear friends, poor darling boy!  I must write and tell him how delighted I am with the news.  Do you know where he is at the moment?”

“He is in London, I believe.  Then you really will stick to us and not be bored?  How sweet of you!” Lady Ethelrida said without a change in her level voice while her thoughts ran:  “It is very plucky of Laura; or, she has some plan!  In any case I can’t prevent her coming now, and perhaps it is best to get it over.  But I had better warn Tristram, surprises are so unpleasant.”