The Duke, who, but for his anxiety to see the end, would have long since been on his way to England, had taken every precaution to ascertain the date of the ship’s arrival.  He took it for granted that Claudius would sail in the Cunard steamer, and he found out the vessel which sailed next after the Doctor had telegraphed.  Then he made arrangements to be informed so soon as she was sighted, determined to go down in the Custom-House tug and board her at the Quarantine, that he might have the satisfaction of being first to tell Claudius all there was to be told.

“The day after to-morrow,” he had said to Margaret, “we may safely expect him,” and he watched, with a sort of dull pleasure, the light that came into her eyes when she heard the time was so near.

The first disappointment—­alas, it was only the first—­came on the evening before the appointed day.  The Duke received a note from the office to the effect that late arrivals having reported very heavy weather, it was feared that the steamer might be delayed some hours.  He at once inquired for the Countess, but found to his annoyance that both she and his sister had gone to the theatre.  He had been out when they went, and so they had taken Miss Skeat as a sort of escort, and were doubtless enjoying themselves mightily.  It was necessary, however, that Margaret should know the news of the delay before she went to bed, for it would have been cruel to allow her to wake in the morning with the assurance that Claudius might arrive at any moment.

“If I wait for them, and make a fuss, she will think it is something serious,” reflected the Duke with more than usual tact.  So he wrote a note, simply stating that he had news of a delay in the arrival of some hours,—­perhaps a whole day, he added, wishing to be on the safe side.  He gave the note to Vladimir, and went away to his rooms.

Margaret and Lady Victoria came home together in great spirits, laughing and rustling in their silk cloaks as they entered the little drawing-room, and sat down by the fire for a chat.  Then Vladimir brought the Duke’s note.  Margaret read it by the firelight, and her face fell suddenly.

“What is it, dear?” asked Lady Victoria affectionately, as she noticed her companion’s distressed look.

“Nothing—­I suppose I ought not to be anxious.  The steamer is delayed, that is all,” and she gave the English girl her brother’s note.

“Oh, if it had been anything serious he would have sat up for us.  It will probably be in in the afternoon instead of in the morning.”  But Margaret’s eyes were heavy and her gladness was gone from her.

“Do you ever have presentiments?” she asked, as they separated half an hour later.

“Never,” answered Lady Victoria cheerily, “and if I ever do they never come true.”

“I do,” said Margaret, “I have a feeling that I shall never see him again.”  Poor Countess!  She looked very miserable, with her white face and weary eyes.