nursery? Sir Tom grew pale, and saw
his own countenance white and full of trouble, as if it had been a
stranger's, in the glass. He hurried downstairs to the breakfast-room,
into which the sun was shining. There could not have been a more
cheerful sight. Some of the flowers brought up from the Hall were on the
table; there was a merry little fire burning; the usual pile of
newspapers were arranged for him by Williams's care, who felt himself a
political character too, and understood the necessity of seeing what the
country was thinking. Jock stood at the window with a book, reading and
watching the changeful movements outside. But the chair at the head of
the table was vacant. "Have you seen Lucy?" he said to Jock, with an
anxiety which he could scarcely disguise. At this moment she came in,
very guilty, very pale, like a ghost. She gave him no greeting, save a
sort of attempt at a smile and warning look, calling his attention to
Williams, who had followed her into the room with that one special dish
which the butler always condescended to place on the table. Sir Tom sat
down to his newspapers confounded, not knowing what to think or to say.

CHAPTER XLII.

LADY RANDOLPH WINDS UP HER AFFAIRS.

Lucy contrived somehow to elude all private intercourse with her husband
that morning. She was not alone with him for a moment. To his question
about little Tom and her anxiety of last night she made as slight an
answer as possible. "Nurse tells me he is all right." "He is quite well
this morning," Lucy replied with quiet dignity, as if she did not limit
herself to nurse's observations. She talked a little to Jock about his
school and how long the holidays lasted, while Sir Tom retired behind
the shield of his newspapers. He did not get much benefit from them that
morning, or instruction as to what the country was thinking. He was so
much more curious to know what his wife was thinking, that simple
little girl who knew no evil. The most astute of men could not have
perplexed Sir Tom so much. It seemed to him that something must have
happened, but what? What was there that any one could betray to her? not
the discovery that he himself thought he had made. That was impossible.
If any one else had known it he surely must have known it. It could not
be anything so unlikely as that.

But Lucy gave him no opportunity of inquiring. She went away to see the
housekeeper, to look after her domestic affairs; and then Sir Tom made