To the Long Gallery," said Harry.

The next moment old Mason the butler was in the room again, this time in
great excitement.

"There's someone in the garden with her Ladyship, ma'am," he cried. "I
think--I think it's my Lord!"

"Who?" asked Mina, sitting up, feigning to be calm and sleepy.

"Mr Harry, I mean, ma'am."

"Oh! Well then, go and see."

The old man turned and went out into the hall.

"How are you, Mason?" she heard Harry say. "Her Ladyship and I have some
business to talk about. May I have a sandwich afterward?"

There he was, spoiling the drama, in Mina's humble opinion! Who should
think of sandwiches now?

"Do what Mr Tristram says, Mason," said Cecily.

She heard them begin to mount the stairs. Jumping up, she ran softly to
the door and out into the hall. Mason stood there with his candle,
staring up after Cecily and Harry. He turned to Mina with a quizzical
smile wrinkling his good-natured face.

"You'd think it a funny time for business, wouldn't you, ma'am?" he
asked. He paused a moment, stroking his chin. "Unless you'd happened to
be in service twenty years with her late Ladyship. Well, I'm glad to see
him again, anyhow."

"What shall we do?" whispered Mina. "Are you going to bed, Mason?"

"Not me, ma'am. Why, I don't know what mayn't happen before the
morning!" He shook his head in humorous commentary on those he had
served. "But there's no call for you to sit up, ma'am."

"I'll thank you to mind your own business, Mason," said the Imp
indignantly. "It would be most--most improper if I didn't sit up. Why,
it's nearly midnight!"

"They won't think of that up there," said he.

The sound of a door slammed came from upstairs. Mina's eyes met Mason's
for a moment by an involuntary impulse, then hastily turned away. It is
an excellent thing to be out of the reach of temptation. The door was
shut!

"Give me a candle here in the library," said Mina with all her dignity.
And there, in the library, she sat down to wonder and to wait.

Mason went off after the sandwiches, smiling still. There was really
nothing odd in it, when once you were accustomed to the family ways.

XXVII

BEFORE TRANSLATION

Harry Tristram had come back to Blent in the mood which belonged to the
place as of old--the mood that claimed as his right what had become his
by love, knew no scruples if only he could gain and keep it, was ready
to play a bold game and take a great chance. He did not argue about