A sense of foreboding seemed to close round Audrey’s heart, as she met the gaze of the beautiful, enigmatic eyes.  What was it that Elisabeth intended to “explain” to Sara?  Something connected with Garth Trent, of course, and it was impossible, in view of the attitude Elisabeth had assumed, to hope that it could be aught else than something to his detriment.

“If an explanation can be avoided, Mrs. Durward,” she said rather coldly, “I think it would be much better.  The least said, the soonest mended, you know,” she added, looking straight into the baffling eyes.

The two women, all at once antagonistic and suspicious of each other, shook hands formally, and Elisabeth took her way through the woods, while Audrey rejoined her neglected guests and used her best endeavours to convert an entertainment that threatened to become a failure into, at least, a qualified success.  By dint of infinite tact, and the loyal cooperation of Miles Herrick, she somehow achieved it, and the majority of the picnickers enjoyed themselves immensely.

Only Sara felt as though a shadow had crept out from some hidden place and cast its grey length across the path whereon she walked, while Miles and Audrey, discerning the shadow with the clear-sighted vision of friendship, were filled with apprehension for the woman whom they had both learned to love.

CHAPTER XXVI

A MIDNIGHT VISITOR

Judson crossed the hall at Far End and, opening the front door, peered anxiously out into the moonlit night for the third time that evening.

Neither he nor his wife could surmise what had become of their master.  He had gone away, as they knew, with the intention of joining a picnic party in Haven Woods, but he had given no instructions that he wished the dinner-hour postponed, and now the beautiful little dinner which Mrs. Judson had prepared and cooked for her somewhat exigent employer had been entirely robbed of its pristine delicacy of flavour, since it had been “keeping hot” in the oven for at least two hours.

“Coming yet?” queried Mrs. Judson, as her husband returned to the kitchen.

The latter shook his head.

“Not a sign of ’im,” he replied briefly.

Ten minutes later, the house door opened and closed with a bang, and Judson hastened upstairs to ascertain his master’s wishes.  When he again rejoined the wife of his bosom, his face wore a look of genuine concern.

“Something’s happened,” he announced solemnly.  “Ten years have I been in Mr. Trent’s service, and never, Maria, never have I seen him look as he do now.”

“What’s he looking like, then?” demanded Mrs. Judson, pausing with a saucepan in her hand.