looked about her with somewhat the air of a conspirator. The twilight was deepening into darkness and no one was about. She pushed open the iron gate and closed it softly behind her. She knocked at the door so gently that it was not till the third time that she was heard. The maidservant who answered it seemed flustered and bustled. Mr. and Miss Mowbray had only returned an hour ago. She did not think that either of them would see anybody. Mrs. Strong'nth'arm took from her pocket a soiled and crumpled envelope. She smoothed it out and begged the maid to take it at once to Miss Mowbray. The maid, reluctant and grumbling, took it and disappeared. She returned a minute later, and Mrs. Strong'nth'arm followed her upstairs to the small room over the hall that was Betty's sanctum. Betty was still in her travelling dress. She was tired, but made Mrs. Strong'nth'arm comfortable in an armchair beside the fire and closed the door.
"There's nothing wrong, is there?" she asked. "Anthony isn't ill?"
"He's quite all right," Mrs. Strong'nth'arm assured her. "How's your father?"
"Oh, not very well," answered Betty. "I've just sent him to bed," she laughed. "You're sure there's nothing wrong?" she asked again.
