ed
writing-table and seated herself before a litter of papers--'I won't
have her disturbed if she's resting,' Lady John said, adding half to
herself, 'she certainly needs it.'

'Yes, m'lady,' said Sutton, adjusting the maroon collar of his livery
which had insisted upon riding up at the back.

'But I want her to know'--Lady John spoke while glancing through a
letter before consigning it to the wastepaper basket--'the moment she
comes down she must be told that the new plans arrived by the morning
post.'

'Plans, m'la----'

'She'll understand. There they are.' The lady held up a packet about
which she had just snapped an elastic band. 'I'll put them here. It's
very important she should have them in time to look over before she
goes.'

'Yes, m'lady.'

Sutton opened a door and disappeared. A footstep sounded on the marble
floor of the lobby.

Over her shoulder Lady John called out, 'Is _that_ Miss Levering?'

'_No_, m'lady. Mr. Farnborough.'

'I'm afraid I'm scandalously early.' In spite of his words the young man
whipped off his dust coat and flung it to the servant with as much
precipitation as though what he had meant to say was 'scandalously
late.' 'I motored up from Dutfield. It didn't take me nearly so long as
Lord John said.'

The lady had given the young man her hand without rising. 'I'm afraid my
husband is no authority on motoring--and he's not home yet from church.'

'It's the greatest luck finding _you_.' Farnborough sat himself down in
the easy-chair on the other side of the wide writing-table undaunted by
its business-like air or the preoccupied look of the woman before it. 'I
thought Miss Levering was the only person under this roof who was ever
allowed to observe Sunday as a real day of rest.'

'If you've come to see Miss Levering----' began Lady John.

'Is she here? I give you my word I didn't know it.'

'Oh?' said the lady, unconvinced.

'I thought she'd given up coming.'

'Well, she's begun again. She's helping me about something.'

'Oh, helping you, is she?' said Farnborough with absent eyes; and then
suddenly 'all there,' 'Lady John, I've come to ask you to help _me_.'

'With Miss Levering?' said Hermione Heriot's aunt. 'I can't do it.'

'No, no--all that's no good. She only laughs.'

'Oh,' breathed the lady, relieved, 'she looks upon you as a boy.'

'Such nonsense,' he burst out suddenly. 'What do you think she said to
me the day before she went off yachting?'

'That she w