gravity.
Now and then Michael addressed some observation to her, but she answered
him briefly and without interest.

They went into the schoolroom for prayers as usual, and Audrey played
the harmonium; but as he was following Mrs. Ross back into the
drawing-room, Audrey tapped him on the arm.

'Don't go in there just yet, Michael; I want to speak to you.'

Then he suffered himself very reluctantly to be detained by the hall
fire.

'Michael,' she began, in rather a peremptory tone, 'I cannot understand
either you or Cyril to-night. You are both very strange, I think. Cyril
leaves me without a word, and goes out looking like a ghost, and you
tell me that something is troubling him, and yet neither of you
vouchsafes me one word of explanation.'

'I cannot help it, Audrey; it is not my affair. Blake was in a hurry;
you must have seen that for yourself.'

'He was very extraordinary in his behaviour, and so were you. Of course,
if you don't choose to answer me, Michael, I will just send a note
across to Cyril, and tell him I must see him at once.'

'I should hardly do that, if I were you.'

'Not write to him!' in an offended voice. 'Really, Michael, you are too
mysterious; why, this borders on absurdity! Cyril is in trouble--in one
breath you tell me that--and then you would prevent my writing to ask
him to come to me! I shall certainly write to him.'

'Will you go to your father instead? He has just gone into the study.'

Then Audrey looked at him with intense astonishment.

'What has my father got to do with it?'

'Never mind all that,' returned Michael slowly. 'Go to Dr. Ross, and ask
him why Blake is in trouble. He will tell you; you may take my word for
it.'

Audrey still gazed at him; but Michael's grave manner left her in no
doubt as to the seriousness of the matter, and her eyes looked a little
troubled.

'Go, dear,' he repeated gently; 'it will be best for you to hear it from
him.'

Then she left him without another word, and went straight to the study.

It seemed as though her father expected her, for he looked at her as she
came slowly towards him, and put out his hand.

'You have come to talk to me, my darling. Sit down beside me. No, not
that chair; it is too far off. Come closer to me, my child.'

Then, as Audrey obeyed him, she felt a sense of growing uneasiness. What
did that sorrowful tenderness in her father's voice mean? For the moment
her courage failed her, and her lips could not f