Dr. Warren was an old acquaintance, and as he was on the point of leaving the house as she entered it she stopped to shake hands with him.

“It’s rather unfortunate for a man when one can only be glad to see him in the house of an enemy.”

She greeted him with, “I must know what you are doing here.  It’s not possible that Lady Walderhurst is fretting herself into fiddle-strings because her husband chooses to have a fever in India.”

“No, she is behaving beautifully in all respects.  May I have a few minutes’ talk with you, Lady Maria, before you see her?”

“A few minutes’ talk with me means something either amusing or portentous.  Let us walk into the morning-room.”

She led the way with a rustle or silk petticoats and a suggestion of lifted eyebrows.  She was inclined to think that the thing sounded more portentous than amusing.  Thank Heaven! it was not possible for Emily to have involved herself in annoying muddles.  She was not that kind of woman.

When she came out of the room some twenty minutes later she did not look quite like herself.  Her smart bonnet set less well upon her delicate little old face, and she was agitated and cross and pleased.

“It was ridiculous of Walderhurst to leave her,” she was saying.  “It was ridiculous of her not to order him home at once.  It was exactly like her,—­dear and ridiculous.”

In spite of her agitation she felt a little grotesque as she went upstairs to see Emily,—­grotesque, because she was obliged to admit to herself that she had never felt so curiously excited in her life.  She felt as she supposed women did when they allowed themselves to shed tears through excitement; not that she was shedding tears, but she was “upset,” that was what she called it.

As the door opened Emily rose from a chair near the fire and came slowly towards her, with an awkward but lovely smile.

Lady Maria made a quick movement forward and caught hold of both her hands.

“My good Emily,” she broke forth and kissed her.  “My excellent Emily,” and kissed her again.  “I am completely turned upside down.  I never heard such an insane story in my life.  I have seen Dr. Warren.  The creatures were mad.”

“It is all over,” said Emily.  “I scarcely believe it was true now.”

Lady Maria being led to a sofa settled herself upon it, still wearing her complex expression of crossness, agitation, and pleasure.

“I am going to stay here,” she said, obstinately.  “There shall be no more folly.  But I will tell you that they have gone back to India.  The child was a girl.”

“It was a girl?”

“Yes, absurdly enough.”

“Oh,” sighed Emily, sorrowfully.  “I’m sure Hester was afraid to write to me.”

“Rubbish!” said Lady Maria.  “At any rate, as I remarked before, I am going to stay here until Walderhurst comes back.  The man will be quite mad with gratified vanity.”