‘He isn’t well?’

’A touch of gout, he says.  Two days last week he didn’t go to business, and his temper was that ‘orrible!’ Nancy had a habit of facetiously quoting vulgarities; this from an acquaintance of theirs who often supplied them with mirth.  ’I suppose the gout does make one bad-tempered.’

‘Has he been coming often?—­Mr. Barmby, I mean.’

’Pretty well.  I think I must turn matchmaker, and get him married to some one.  It oughtn’t to be difficult.  The Prophet “has points."’

‘I dare say some people would think him handsome,’ assented Miss Morgan, nibbling a finger which showed an ink-stain, and laughing shyly.

’And his powers of conversation!—­Don’t you know any one that would do for him?’

They jested on this theme until Nancy chose to become serious again.

‘Have you any lessons to-morrow?’

’No.  Thank goodness every one is going to see the procession, or the decorations, or the illuminations, and all the rest of the nonsense,’ Jessica replied.  ’I shall have a good long day of work; except that I’ve promised to go in the afternoon, and have tea with the little girls at Champion Hill.  I wish you’d come too; they’d be delighted to see you, and there’ll be nobody except the governess.’

Nancy looked up in doubt.

‘Are you sure?  Won’t the dowager be at home?’

‘She hasn’t left her room for three weeks.’

They exchanged a look of some special significance.

‘Then I suppose,’ said Nancy, with a peculiar smile, ’that’s why Mr Tarrant has been calling?’

‘Has he?  How do you know?’

Again they looked at each other, and Nancy laughed.

‘I have happened to meet him twice, the last few days.’  She spoke in an off-hand way.  ’The first time, it was just at the top of the lane; he was coming away.  The second time, I was walking along Champion Hill, and he came up behind me, going to the house.’

‘Did he talk?’

Nancy gave a nod.

‘Yes, both times.  But he didn’t tell me that the dowager was worse.’

‘High and mighty?’ asked Jessica.

’Not quite so majestic as usual, I thought.  I didn’t feel quite so much of a shrimp before him.  And decidedly he was in better spirits.  Perhaps the dowager’s death would be important to him?’

‘Very likely.  Will you come to-morrow?’

Miss.  Lord hesitated—­then, with a sudden frankness: 

‘To tell you the truth, I’m afraid he might be there.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so, not on Jubilee Day.’

‘But that’s the very reason.  He may come to be out of the uproar.’

‘I meant he was more likely to be out of town altogether.’

Nancy, still leaning over the table, propped her chin on her hands, and reflected.

‘Where does he go, I wonder?’

’Oh, all sorts of places, no doubt.  Men of that kind are always travelling.  I suppose he goes shooting and fishing—­’