no--not till Sunday! But Sunday is a _day_, after all, not a night." Mr.
Pellew said:--"Sunrise at eight," and Gwen said:--"I think Masham will
make it Sunday about two o'clock. We shan't have breakfast till eleven.
You'll see!"

They were in the great gallery with the Van Dycks when Gwen stopped, as
one stops who thinks suddenly of an omission, and said, as to herself,
more than to her hearers:--"I wonder whether she meant me."

"Whether who meant you?" said both, sharing the question.

"Nothing.... Very likely I was mistaken.... No--it was this. You saw
that rather _piquante_, dry young woman? You know which I mean?"

"Danced with that good-looking young groom?..."

"Yes--my Tom--Tom Kettering. It was what I heard her say to Lutwyche ...
some time ago.... 'Remember she's not to have it till to-morrow
morning.' It just crossed my mind, did she mean me? I dare say it was
nothing."

"I heard that. It was a letter." Mr. Pellew said this.

"Had you any impression about it?"

"I thought it was some joke among the servants."

Gwen was disquieted, evidently. "I wish I hadn't heard it," said she,
"if it isn't to be delivered till to-morrow. That young woman is Dr.
Nash's housekeeper--Dr. Nash at Chorlton." She was speaking to ears that
had heard all about the twin sisters. She interrupted any answer that
meant to follow "Oh!" and "H'm!" by saying abruptly:--"I must see
Lutwyche and find out."

They turned with her, and retraced their steps, remarking that no doubt
it was nothing, but these things made one uncomfortable. Much better to
find out, and know!

A casual just entering to rejoin the revels stood aside to allow them to
pass, but was captured and utilised. "Go in and tell Miss Lutwyche I
want to speak to her out here." Gwen knew all about local class
distinctions, and was aware her maid would not be "Lutwyche" to a
village baker's daughter. The girl, awed into some qualification of mere
assent, which might have been presumptuous, said:--"Yes, my lady, if you
please."

Lutwyche was captured and came out. "What was it I was not to have till
to-morrow morning, Lutwyche? You know quite well what I mean. What was
the letter?"

The waiting-woman had a blank stare in preparation, to prevaricate with,
but had to give up using it. "Oh yes--there _was_ a _note_," she said.
"It was only a note. Mrs. Lamprey brought it from Dr. Nash. He wished
your ladyship to have it to-morrow."

"I will have it at once, thank y