Agnes had called
for her. The cabman was desired to drive Miss Lysle to Lady Lysle's
house in Eaton Square. This was accordingly done, and soon after ten
o'clock Lady Lysle, who had not yet completed her morning toilet, was
most amazed at being informed by her maid that Miss Lysle was waiting
for her downstairs.

"Aneta! You don't mean Aneta, Purcell?"

"Yes, my lady; and she wants to see you in a very great hurry."

"Then send her up to me."

Purcell disappeared. Lady Lysle wondered what was wrong. Presently
Aneta burst into the room.

"My dear child," said her aunt, "what can be wrong? Why have you left
school? I do hope no illness has broken out there. It would be very
inconvenient for me to have you here at present."

"There is no illness whatever at the school, Aunt Lucia," said Aneta,
going up to her aunt and kissing her; "only there is a girl there, one
of my schoolfellows, in a good bit of trouble, and I want to help her,
and I have got a day off from Mrs. Ward, who doesn't know why she is
giving it to me, but trusts me all the same. And now, auntie, I want
you to come with me at once."

"Oh my dear child, where?"

"To Clapham, auntie."

"Clapham! I never stopped at Clapham in my life. I have driven through
the place, it is true."

"Well, we'll stop there to-day," said Aneta, "at Laburnum Villa,
Clapham. I want to see Mrs. Martin, Maggie's mother."

"Oh, dear child," said Lady Lysle, "you mean Miss Howland when you
speak of Maggie? Now, you know I told you that her stepfather is no
relation whatever to the Martyns of The Meadows. I cannot make out why
she should have given you to understand that he was. A man who lives
at Clapham! Dear Aneta, I would rather be excused."

"There is no excuse, auntie, that I can listen to for a single moment.
I know all about Maggie's stepfather, and I will tell you as we are
driving out to Clapham. You have always let me have my own way, and I
have--yes, I have tried to be a good girl; but there is something
before me to-day more important and more difficult than I ever tackled
yet, and if I can't come to my own aunt--I, who am a motherless
girl--for help at this crisis I shall think the world is coming to an
end."

"What a strange, earnest way you do speak in, Aneta!"

"I am very sorry, darling; but I assure you the case is most urgent.
You are quite well, aren't you?"

"Oh yes, my love; I am never an ailing sort of person."

"Well, then, I will send Purcel