tle more than a comb-and-brush bag, there will be a good deal to do."

Doris caught him by the coat-fronts.

"You don't mean to say that I shall be expected to dine to-night! I have
_not_ brought an evening dress."

"What does that matter? I met Miss Field in the passage, as I was coming
in to you, and she said: 'I see Mrs. Meadows has not brought much
luggage. We can lend her anything she wants. I will send her a few of
Rachel's tea-gowns to choose from.'"

Doris's laugh was hysterical; then she sobered down.

"What time is it? Four o'clock. Oh, I wish Miss Wigram was here! You
know, Lord Dunstable must go to town to-night! And Miss Wigram can't
arrive till after the last train from here."

"They know. They've ordered a special, to take Lord Dunstable and the
solicitor to Edinburgh, to catch the midnight mail."

"Oh, well--if you can bully the fates like that!--" said Doris, with a
shrug. "How did he take it?"

Meadows's tone changed.

"It was a great blow. I thought it aged him."

"Was she nice to him?" asked Doris, anxiously.

"Nicer than I thought she could be," said Meadows, quietly. "I heard
her say to him--'I'm afraid it's been my fault, Harry.' And he took her
hand, without a word."

"I will _not_ cry!" said Doris, pressing her hands on her eyes. "If it
comes right, it will do them such a world of good! Now show me my room."

But in the hall, waiting to waylay them, they found Miss Field, beaming
as usual.

"Everything is ready for you, dear Mrs. Meadows, and if you want
anything you have only to ring. This way--"

"The ground-floor?" said Doris, rather mystified, as they followed.

"We have put you in what we call--for fun--our state-rooms. Various
Royalties had them last year. They're in a special wing. We keep them
for emergencies. And the fact is we haven't got another corner."

Doris, in dismay, took the smiling lady by the arm.

"I can't live up to it! Please let us go to the inn."

But Meadows and Miss Field mocked at her; and she was soon ushered into
a vast bedroom, in the midst of which, on a Persian carpet, sat her
diminutive bag, now empty. Various elegant "confections" in the shape of
tea-gowns and dressing-gowns littered the bed and the chairs. The
toilet-table showed an array of coroneted brushes. As for the superb
Empire bed, which had belonged to Queen Hortense, and was still hung
with the original blue velvet sprinkled with golden bees, Doris eyed it
with a firm hostility