I left Jessica to her books sooner than usual. The examination
draws near.'

Quiet, sad, diligent ever, Mary kept unchanged the old domestic routine.
There was the same perfect order, the same wholesome economy, as when
she worked under the master's eyes. Nancy had nothing to do but enjoy
the admirable care with which she was surrounded; she took it all as a
matter of course, never having considered the difference between her own
home and those of her acquaintances.

Horace had dined, and was gone out again. They talked of him; Mary said
that he had spoken of moving into lodgings very soon.

'Of course he doesn't tell us everything,' said Nancy. 'I feel pretty
sure that he's going to leave the office, but how he means to live I
don't understand. Perhaps Mrs. Damerel will give him money, or lend it
him. I only hope she may break it off between him and Fanny.'

'Hasn't he told you that Fanny is often with Mrs. Damerel?'

'With her?' Nancy exclaimed. 'He never said a word of it to me.'

'He said so to me this evening, and laughed when I looked surprised.'

'Well then, I don't pretend to understand what's going on. We can't do
anything.'

About nine o'clock the servant entered the room, bringing Miss. Lord a
note, which had just been left by a cab-driver. Nancy, seeing that the
address was in Tarrant's hand, opened it with a flutter of joy; such
a proceeding as this, openly sending a note by a messenger, could
only mean that her husband no longer cared to preserve secrecy. To her
astonishment, the envelope contained but a hurried line.

'Not a word yet to any one. Without fail, come to-morrow afternoon, at
four.'

With what show of calmness she could command, she looked up at her
companion.

'The idea of his sending in this way! It's that Mr. Crewe I've told
you of. I met him as I was coming home, and had to speak to him rather
sharply to get rid of him. Here comes his apology, foolish man!'

Living in perpetual falsehood, Nancy felt no shame at a fiction such as
this. Mere truth-telling had never seemed to her a weighty matter of
the law. And she was now grown expert in lies. But Tarrant's
message disturbed her gravely. Something unforeseen must have
happened--something, perhaps, calamitous. She passed a miserable night.

When she ascended the stairs at Staple Inn, next afternoon, it wanted
ten minutes to four. As usual at her coming, the outer door stood open,
exposing the door with the knocker. She had jus