He held a salver in his hand, and on the salver was a letter. "Mr.
Varick asked me to give you this note at a quarter-past seven, ma'am. I
understood him to say that he might be late for dinner to-night as he
had to go up to the Reservoir Cottage."

Blanche sat up, all her senses suddenly on the alert.

"Mr. Varick came in some minutes ago," she said, "at least, I think he
did."

She was beginning to wonder if Lionel had really come in, or if she had
only dreamt that he had done so.

"I don't think he came in, ma'am, for I've been in the dining-room, with
the door open, for a long time. I would have heard him if he had come
through and gone upstairs."

"You might see if he is in," she said quietly.

She took the letter off the salver, but did not break the seal till the
old man had come back with the words: "No, ma'am, Mr. Varick is not in
the house."

He lingered on for a moment. "I hope you will forgive me, ma'am, for
mentioning that Mr. Varick told us we could all go off early to-morrow
morning if we liked, instead of next Monday. He paid us up after the
visitors had gone away, and he also gave us the bonus he so kindly
promised. I never wish to serve a more generous gentleman. But the chef
and I decided that we would ask you, ma'am, if it is for your
convenience that we leave early to-morrow?"

"Anything that Mr. Varick has arranged with you will suit me," she said
quickly. "As a matter of fact, I think he would like you to leave by the
train I shall be going by myself."

As the man turned away she looked down at Varick's letter. On the
envelope was written in his good, clear handwriting: "The Hon. Blanche
Farrow, Wyndfell Hall." But no premonition of its contents reached her
still weary, excited brain.

Written on a large plain sheet of paper, the letter ran:

"My dear Blanche,--I fear I am going to give you a shock--for, by
the time this reaches you, there will have been another
accident--one very similar to that which befell poor little
Bubbles. But this time there will be no clever, skilful Panton to
bring the drowned to life.

"I suggest that you begin to feel uneasy about a quarter past
eight. I leave to your good sense the details of the sad discovery.
I have but one request to make to you, kindest and truest of
friends; that is, that you remember what I asked you to do with
reference to Panton's appointment to-morrow morning. If you can get