is sad Oxford!"

"Sad!" said Lady Dashwood, her smile still lingering. "The hospitals
are sad, Louise, yes, very sad, and the half-empty Colleges."

"Oh, it is sad, incredibly sad," said the maid. "What kind of city is
it, it contains only grey monasteries, no boulevards, no shops. There is
one shop, perhaps, but what is that?"

Lady Dashwood had gone to the toilet table, for she caught sight of the
letters lying on the top of the jewel drawers. She had seen them several
times that day, and had always intended tearing them up, for neither of
them needed an answer. But they had served a good purpose. She had
escaped from the drawing-room with their aid. She took them up and
opened them and looked at them again. Louise watched her covertly. She
glanced at the first and tore it up; then at the second and tore that
up. She opened the third and glanced at it. And now the faint remains of
the smile that had lingered on her face suddenly vanished.

"My dear Gwen," (Lena badly written, of course).

"I hope you understood that Lady Dashwood will keep you till the 3rd.
You don't mention the Warden! Does that mean that you are making no
progress in that direction? Perhaps taking no trouble! The question
is----"

Here Lady Dashwood stopped. She looked at the signature of the writer.
But that was not necessary--the handwriting was Belinda Scott's.

For a moment or two Lady Dashwood stood as if she intended to remain in
the same position for the rest of her life. Then she breathed rather
heavily and her nostrils dilated.

"Ah! Well!" said Louise to herself, and she nodded her head ominously.

Soon Lady Dashwood recovered herself and folded up the letter. She
looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Miss Gwendolen Scott. She
put the letter back into its envelope.

Had she opened the letter and then laid it aside with the others,
without perceiving that the letter was not addressed to her and without
reading it? Was it possible that she, in her hurry last evening, had
done this? If so, Gwen had never received the letter or read it.

Of course she could not have read it. If she had, it would not have been
laid on the toilet table. If Gwen had read it and left it about, it
would have either been destroyed or taken to her room.

"Does Madame wish to go to bed immediately?" asked Louise innocently.
She had been waiting nearly twenty-four hours for something to happen
about that letter. She was beginning to be afraid that it