brary, Lena?" he
asked.

Lady Dashwood's tired face flushed.

"I will come very soon," she said, and she pushed her chair back a
little, as if to cover her embarrassment, and looked at her niece.
"May," she said, in a voice that did not quite conceal her trouble, "we
ought to start at a quarter to ten. That will give us two clear hours
for our work."

May bent her head in assent. Neither of them was thinking of the Club.
They could hear the Warden close the door behind him. Then Lady Dashwood
rose and casting a silent look at May, went out of the room.

In the library a fitful sunshine was coming and going from a clouded
sky. The curtains were drawn back and there seemed nothing in the room
that could have justified even a hysterical girl in imagining a ghost.
The Warden had left the door open, for he heard his sister coming up the
stairs behind him.

Lady Dashwood came in, and she began speaking at once to cover her
apprehension of the interview. "A funny sort of a day," she began. "I
hope it will keep up for this afternoon."

The Warden had gone to one of the windows, and he moved at the sound of
her voice.

"Mrs. Harding," she said, "has written to ask us to come in to tea, as
she's so near. It is convenient, as we shall only have to walk a few
steps from our Sale, so I am going to accept by telephone."

The Warden came towards her, and taking a little case from his pocket,
handed her some notes. "Will you spend that for me at your Sale?"

That was not his reason for the interview! Lady Dashwood took the notes
and put them into her bag, and then waited a moment.

"I may possibly have to go to the Deanery this afternoon," he said, and
then he paused too.

"Very well," said Lady Dashwood. They both were painfully aware that
this also was not what he wanted to say.

"Please let me have my lunch early, at a quarter to one," he said.

"I have asked Mr. Bingham here to dinner on Saturday, he seemed to
interest May, and, well, of course, it is not a lively holiday for her
just now."

Lady Dashwood's eyes were on him as she spoke. He seemed not to hear. He
went up to his desk and turned over some papers, nervously, and he was a
man who rarely showed any nervousness in his movements.

Then he suddenly said: "Gwendolen has practically accepted my offer."
And he did not turn round and look at his sister.

It had come! She knew it was coming, and yet it was as keenly painful as
if she had been wholly unprepa