CHAPTER XXV.

The shooting men were up first, to their early breakfast. It seemed to
Deb a matter of course that Claud would be of this virile company; it
was his saving grace as a man, when he was young, that he was a keen
and accomplished sportsman. After an indifferent night, she rose lazily
and late; found, as she expected, only a few more women in the
breakfast-room, and ate her own meal alone at one of the little tables.
The hostess drifted in amongst the last, and stopped a moment to shake
hands and exchange a word.

"It seems a beautiful day," she said, "and we shall be making up a
party by-and-by to go out and lunch with the guns. You will join us, of
course?"

But Deb thought of Claud amongst the guns, and of the horrible risk of
appearing to run after him; and she replied sweetly that, although she
would have loved the outing, she was afraid she must stay at home,
owing to important letters that had to be written for the afternoon
post.

"All right," said the hostess, "I'll stay too--there are plenty without
me--and we'll have a drive later on."

She passed to her breakfast-table, and Deb rose and went upstairs, to
see what she could find to attend to in the way of pressing
correspondence.

She had the status of a married lady in this great house, as
everywhere; that is to say, a sitting-room of her own--a very cosy
place between tea and the dressing-bell. Just now, however, Rosalie was
busy in it. The maid offered to retire to the adjoining bed-chamber,
but Deb said, "Oh, never mind; go on," and gathering her blotting-book
and papers, went downstairs again to make herself comfortable in the
library. She loved a good library to sit in, and generally found
privacy therein at this time of day.

The library here was magnificent in stately comfort--books in
thousands, busts, old masters, muffling Turkey carpets, a great,
bright, still fire, and armchairs so big and soft that it was strange
they could stand empty. She drew up one of them and sat awhile,
toasting her feet and turning precious leaves--it was the interval
covered by Claud's breakfast--and then set herself to the business she
was supposed to be engaged in.

"Dear Francie,--I tried at half-a-dozen shops to match your Chinese
satin, but nowhere could I get the exact shade. If you like I will try
again when I go back to town, but if I were you I would not attempt to
make it go with any modern stuff, which could not help looking cru