d-bye, Tom, good-bye, my dear Grace. Of course
I needn't ask either of _you_ not to let this go any further."

The non-arrival of an answer to his message had a cumulative effect upon
the Squire's temper during the morning. At half-past eleven o'clock he
gained some temporary relief to his discomfort by despatching another
one, and did not entirely recover his balance until Dick's telegram
arrived about luncheon time. Then he calmed down suddenly, joked with
the twins over the table and told Miss Bird that she was getting younger
every day. He also gave Mrs. Clinton her marching orders. "I think you
had better go up, Nina," he said, "and see what the young monkey has
been after. I'm excessively annoyed with her, and you can tell her so;
but if she really _is_ with Walter and Muriel I don't suppose any harm
has come to her. I must say it's a relief. Still, I'm very angry about
it, and so she'll find out when she comes home."

So another telegram was despatched, and Mrs. Clinton went up to London
by the afternoon train accompanied by the discreet and faithful Miles.

CHAPTER XX

MRS. CLINTON

That night Cicely and her mother sat late together in Mrs. Clinton's
bedroom. Mrs. Clinton was in a low easy-chair and Cicely on a stool at
her feet. Outside was the continuous and restless echo of London pushing
up to the very feet of its encircling hills, but they were as far
removed from it in spirit as if they had been at home in still and
spacious Kencote.

Mrs. Clinton had arrived at Muriel's house in time for dinner. Walter
had come home from Lord's soon enough to meet her at the station and
bring her out in his motor-car. He had made Miles sit in front with his
servant and he had told his mother what Dick would have told her if she
had waited to come to Cicely until after he had returned to Kencote. She
had listened to him in silence as he unfolded his story, making no
comment even when he told her of Dick's opening her daughter's letter to
her; but when he told her that Cicely had asked that she should be sent
for she had clasped her hands and said, "Oh, I am so glad."

Muriel had met her at the door, but Cicely had stayed in the
drawing-room, pale and downcast. She had gone in to her alone and kissed
her and said, "I am glad you wanted your mother, my darling. You shall
tell me everything to-night when we go upstairs, and we won't think
about it any more until then."

So the evening had passed almost pleasa