“You’ll excuse me, ma’am”, he continued, recapturing his air of decorum, “but I fair couldn’t help it.  We’ll be awful pleased to see you, ma’am, if I may make so bold as to say it—­right down to the cat.  It hasn’t been the same ’ouse since you went away, ma’am; and me and Mr. Simmons has said so time and time again.  You’ll excuse me, ma’am, but—­”

“You’re very kind, Fulton, and so is Simmons, but I’m in a great hurry now.  Is Mr. Pruyn at home?”

“Why, no, he ain’t, ma’am, and that’s a fact.  He’s to dine out.”

“Where?”

“I couldn’t tell you that, ma’am; but perhaps Mr. Simmons would know.  He took Mr. Pruyn’s evening clothes to the bank, and he was to change there.  If you’ll wait a minute, ma’am, I’ll ask him.”

But when Simmons came he could only give the information that his master was going to a “sort o’ business banquet” at one of the great restaurants or hotels.  Moreover, Miss Dorothea had gone out, saying that she would not be home to dinner.

“Then I must write a note,” Diane said, with that air of natural authority which had seemed almost lost from her manner.  “Will you, Fulton, be good enough to bring me a glass of wine and a few biscuits while I write?  I must ask you, Simmons, for a railway guide.”

In Derek’s own room she sat down at the desk where, six months ago, she had arranged his letters on the night when he had returned from South America.  She had no time to indulge in memories, but a tremor shot through her frame as she took up the pen and wrote on a sheet of paper which he had already headed with a date: 

“I have bad news for you, but I hope I may be in time to keep it from being worse.  I have reason to think that Dorothea has gone to Lakefield to be married there to Carli Wappinger.  Should there be any mistake you will forgive me for disturbing you; but I think it well to be prepared for extreme possibilities.  I am, therefore, going to Lakefield now—­at once.  A train at seven-fifteen will get there a little after nine.  There are other trains through the evening, the latest being at five minutes after ten.  Should this reach you in time to enable you to take one of them, you will be wise to do so; but in case it may be too late, you may count on me to do all that can be done.  Let some one be ready to answer the telephone all night.  I shall communicate with the house from the Bay Tree Inn.  I must ask you again to forgive me if I am interfering rashly in your affairs, but you can understand that I have no time to take counsel or reflect.

  “DIANE EVELETH.”

[Illustration:  DRAWN BY FRANK CRAIG HAVING MADE A COPY OF THIS LETTER, SHE CALLED SIMMONS AND FULTON AND GAVE THEM THEIR INSTRUCTIONS]