I
would give a great deal to get out of going to it myself!"

A sombre look stole over his face; his hand clenched itself over the
paper that he held; in spite of the luxurious warmth of the room, he
gave a little shiver. Then he rose and bestirred himself; his nature was
not one that impelled him to dwell for very long upon any painful or
disturbing thought.

He gave his orders about the journey for the following day, then dressed
and went out, remembering that he had two or three engagements for the
evening. The season was nearly over, and many people had left London,
but there seemed little diminution in the number of guests who were
struggling up and down the wide staircase of a house at which Hugo
presented himself about twelve o'clock that night, and he missed very
few familiar faces amongst the crowd as he nodded greetings to his
numerous acquaintances.

"Ah, Luttrell," said a voice at his ear, "I was wondering if I should
see you. I thought you might be off to Scotland already."

"Who told you I was going to Scotland?" said Hugo.

The dark shadow had crossed his face again; if there was a man in
England whom at that time he cordially disliked, it was this
man--Angela's brother--Rupert Vivian. He did not know why, but he always
had a presage of disaster when he saw that high-bred, impassive face
beside him, or heard the modulation of Vivian's quiet, musical voice.
Hugo was superstitious, and he firmly believed that Rupert Vivian's
presence brought him ill luck.

"Angela wrote to me that Mrs. Luttrell was inviting you to Netherglen. I
was going there myself, but I have been prevented. A relation of mine in
Wales is dying, and has sent for me, so I may not be able to get to
Scotland for some weeks."

"Sorry not to see you. I shall be gone by the time you reach Scotland,
then," responded Hugo, amiably.

"Yes." Rupert looked down with a reflective air. "Come here, will you?"
he said, drawing Hugo aside into a small curtained recess, with a seat
just wide enough for two, which happened at that moment to be empty. "I
have something to ask you; there is something that you can do for me if
you will."

"Happy to do anything in my power," murmured Hugo. He did not like to be
asked to help other people, but there was a want of assurance in
Vivian's usually self-contained demeanour which roused his curiosity.
"What is it?"

"Well, to begin with, you know the Herons and Miss Murray, do you not?"

"I know them b