“Yes,” she agreed faintly. “But you said—surely you said!—not fatal?”

“Dr. Chantry told us that he did not anticipate that it would be so, but he says he must be most carefully nursed, and that is why Amanda made me come to fetch you, because she doesn’t know where his sister lives, or even what her name is.”

“To fetch me?” she said, startled. “But—” She stopped, looking at him blankly.

“Oh, if you please, wont you come?” Hildebrand begged. “I told Amanda I was sure you would not, but the case is desperate, and even if you tell me where to find Sir Gareth’s sister it must be at least two days before she could reach him, and it might be too late! And, what is more,” he added, bethinking himself of a fresh difficulty, “I don’t think I have enough money left to pay for such an expensive journey.”

“Oh, if only I could come!” she said, in an anguished tone. She got up quickly, and began to walk about the room. “You see, it isn’t possible! My father has gone to Brighton, but there is still my brother, and his wife, and the servants—” Again she stopped, but this time it was as though an idea had occurred to her. Hildebrand watched her anxiously. Suddenly her myopic gaze focused on his face, and she smiled. “Dear me, what a very poor creature I must seem to you! You see, I have never been in the habit of doing anything at all out of the way, so you must forgive me for not immediately thinking that I could. I daresay nothing could be easier. After all, Amanda contrived to escape from her home without the least difficulty, and I expect she was much more closely watched than I am. Let me consider a little!”

He waited in pent-up silence, venturing after a few moments to say: “I have a chaise waiting outside, if—if you feel that you could come with me, ma’am.”

“Have you? Oh, well, that makes everything perfectly simple!” she said, her worried frown lightening. “I shall tell the servants that you have come to me from my sister, Lady Ennerdale. I wonder what can have happened at Ancaster? The children, of course—they must be ill! Now, was it the Ennerdale children who had measles two years ago, or was it my sister Milford’s children. No, the Ennerdales have not had the measles: it was whooping-cough, now I come to think of it. Very well, they shall have the measles—all five of them, which would quite account for my sister’s desiring me to go to her.” She smiled vaguely upon Hildebrand, and said, gathering her half-train up: “Will you wait while I direct my woman to pack for me? My sister-in-law has driven to Ely, and I do not expect her to return until dinner-time. My brother is somewhere on the estate, but even if he were to come in, I daresay we may fob him off very easily. Do you think, in case you found yourself obliged to answer any awkward questions, you could decide how it comes about that my sister sent you to fetch me rather than one of her servants? It seems an odd thing for her to have done, but I am sure you will think of a very good reason. Sir Matthew Ennerdale-Ancaster—three boys and two girls, and poor little Giles is very sickly, and my sister sadly nervous!”

With these cryptic words, she went away, leaving Hildebrand quite as nervous as Lady Ennerdale. He hoped devoutly that Lord Widmore would not come in: the information conveyed to him by Lady Hester seemed to him meagre.

Upstairs, Lady Hester overcame the difficulty of answering Povey’s surprised questions by ignoring them. This, since she knew herself to be in disgrace, did not astonish Povey, but when she learned that she was not to accompany her mistress to the stricken household she was moved to the heart, and burst into tears. Lady Hester was sorry for her distress, but since some explanation would have to be forthcoming for her unprecedented conduct in going away unattended by her maid, she thought the best thing to do would be to pretend that she was still too angry with Povey to wish for her company. So she said, with gentle coldness: “No, Povey, I do not want you. Lady Ennerdale’s woman will do all I require. Do not pack any evening gowns, if you please: they will not be needed.”

At any other time, Povey would have expostulated, for however ill Lady Ennerdale’s offspring might be it was in the highest degree unlikely that her ladyship would collapse into a state of what she, as well as Povey, would certainly consider to be squalor. But the awful punishment that had been meted out to her possessed her mind so wholly that it was not until much later that the strange nature of the packing she had mechanically performed occurred to her. It was conceivable that Lady Hester might discover a need for hartshorn, but what she wanted with a roll of flannel, or why she insisted on taking her own pillow to her sister’s well-appointed house, were matters that presently puzzled Povey very much indeed.

When she came downstairs again, a plain pelisse worn over a sad-coloured morning-dress which she commonly wore when engaged in gardening, or attending to her dogs, Hester found the butler awaiting her in the hall, and she knew at once, from the look on his face, that he was not going to be as easy to deceive as the lachrymose Povey.

She paused at the foot of the stairs, drawing on her gloves, and looking at Cliffe with a little challenge in her eyes.

“My lady, where are you going to?” he asked her bluntly. “That chaise never came from Ancaster! It’s from the Crown at St. Ives, and the post-boy with it!”

“Oh, dear, how vexatious of you to recognize it!” sighed Hester. “And now I suppose you have told all the other servants!”

“No, my lady, I have not, and well you know I would not!”

She smiled at him, a gleam of mischief in her face. “Don’t! I rely on you to tell my brother, and her ladyship that I have gone to Lady Ennerdale—because the children all have the measles.”

“But where are you going, my lady?” Cliffe asked, perturbed.

“Well, I don’t precisely know, but it really doesn’t signify! I shall be quite safe, and not very far from here, and I shall return—oh, very soon, alas! Don’t try to detain me, pray! I have written a very untruthful letter to her ladyship: will you give it to her, if you please?”

He took it from her, and after staring very hard at her for a moment, bowed, and said: “Yes, my lady.”

“You have always been such a kind friend to me: thank you!”

“There is no one in this house, my lady, barring those it wouldn’t be seemly for me to name, who wouldn’t be happy to serve you—but I wish I could be sure I was doing right!”

“Oh, yes! For I am going upon an errand of mercy, you might say. Now I must not waste any more time: will you tell Mr. Ross I am quite ready to start?”

“Yes, my lady. I should perhaps mention that Mr. Whyteleafe has been with him for the past twenty minutes, however.”

“Dear me, how very unfortunate! I wish I knew what Mr. Ross may have told him!” she murmured. “Perhaps I had better go to the Red Saloon myself.”

She entered this apartment in time to hear Mr. Ross’s firm assertion that all the children had the measles, though none was so alarmingly full of them as little Giles. Lady Ennerdale, he added, was prostrate with anxiety.

“You astonish me!” exclaimed the chaplain, rather narrowly observing him. “I had not thought her ladyship—”

“Because,” said Mr. Ross hurriedly, “the nurse had the misfortune to fall down the stairs, and break her leg, and so everything falls upon her shoulders!”

“Yes, is it not dreadful?” interposed Lady Hester. “Poor Susan! no wonder she should be distracted! I am quite ready to set forward, Mr. Ross, and indeed I feel that we should lose no time!”

“All the way to Ancaster!” Mr. Whyteleafe said, looking thunderstruck. “You will never reach it tonight, Lady Hester! Surely it would be wiser to wait until tomorrow?”

“No, no, for that would mean that I should not arrive until quite late, and knocked up by the journey, I daresay. We shall spend the night somewhere on the road. And then I shan’t be extraordinarily fatigued, and shall be able to render my sister all the assistance possible.”

“If you must go, Lady Hester, I wonder at it that Sir Matthew should not have had the courtesy to fetch you himself! I make no apology for speaking plainly on this head! There is a lack of consideration in such behaviour, a—”

“Sir Matthew,” said Mr. Ross, “is away from home, sir. That is why I offered to be his deputy.”

“Yes, and how very much obliged to you I am!” said Hester. “But do not let us be dawdling any longer, I beg!”

Mr. Whyteleafe said no more, but he was evidently very much shocked by this renewed instance of the shameless demands made upon Hester by her sisters, and it was with tightly folded lips that he accompanied her to where the chaise waited. She was afraid that he too would recognize the post-boy, but he did not bestow more than a cursory glance on him, the circumstance of Lady Ennerdale’s having been shabby enough to have send a hired vehicle, with only two horses, for the conveyance of her sister, ousting all else from his head. Lady Hester was handed up into the chaise, Mr. Ross jumped in after her, the steps were let up, and in another minute they were drawing away from the house.

“Phew!” Hildebrand said involuntarily, pulling out his handkerchief, and mopping his brow. “I can’t tell you how thankful I was that you came in just then, ma’am, for he was asking me all manner of questions! He would know who I was, and I was obliged to tell him that I was employed by Sir Matthew as a secretary.”

“How very clever of you! I daresay he was very much surprised, for Sir Matthew is interested in nothing but sport.”