ed, not after."

"So sorry," murmured Gwen; then added lightly, "but I am more punctual
than Dr. Middleton!"

"The Warden is dining in Hall," said Lady Dashwood.

So the Warden had made himself invisible again! When was he going to
speak to her? When was she going to be really engaged?

Gwendolen held open the door for the two ladies and, as she did so,
glanced round the room. Now that she knew that the Warden was out
somehow the drawing-room looked rather dreary.

Her eyes rested on the portrait over the fireplace. There was that
odious man looking so knowing! She was not sure whether she shouldn't
have that portrait removed when she was Mrs. Middleton. It would serve
him right. She turned out the lights with some satisfaction, it left him
in the dark!

As she walked downstairs behind the two ladies, she thought that they
too looked rather dreary. The hall looked dreary. Even the dining-room
that she always admired looked dreary, and especially dreary looked old
Robinson, and very shabby he looked, as he stood at the carving table.
And young Robinson's nose looked more turned-up, and more stumpy than
she had noticed before. It was so dull without the Warden at the head of
the table.

There was very little conversation at dinner. When the Warden was away,
nobody seemed to want to talk. Lady Dashwood said she had a headache.

But Gwendolen gathered some information of importance. Mrs. Potten had
turned up again, and had been told that the right money had gone to Mrs.
Harding.

Gwendolen stared a good deal at her plate, and felt considerable relief
when Lady Dashwood added: "She knows now that she did not lose her note
in Christ Church. She is always dropping things--poor Marian! But she
very likely hadn't the note at all, and only thought she had the note,"
and so the matter _ended_.

Just as dinner was over Gwen gathered more information. The Warden was
going away early to-morrow! That was dreary, only--she would go and buy
the umbrella while he was away, and get used to having it before he saw
it.

That the future Mrs. Middleton should not even have an umbrella to call
her own was monstrous! She must keep up the dignity of her future
position!

CHAPTER XIX

HONOUR

The drawing-room was empty except for the figure of Gwendolen Scott. Her
slim length was in a great easy-chair, on the arms of which she was
resting her hands, while she turned her head from side to side like a
bird that anticipat