‘Oh, I can tell as many lies as you wish, Ilfracombe; and as for going I shall only be too delighted to get away. Only it is not treating me fairly to keep me so completely in the dark. Something must have happened to make you so anxious to be off. Now, do tell me,’ she continued, as she seated herself upon his knee, ‘you know I’m as safe as a church. Have you a row on with Portland or any of the others? Or are Lady Bowmant’s attentions becoming altogether too warm? I gave her free leave to make love to you, so you mustn’t judge her too hardly.’ ‘No, my dear, don’t be ridiculous; it’s nothing of that sort. But--well, to make a clean breast of it, Nora, the play is awfully hot here; enough to break the Bank of England, and I think it’s gone on quite long enough. Why, I should be almost afraid to tell you how much money I have lost since coming here. We have an ample fortune; but, as you have often told me, no fortune will bear such a continual strain on it for long. And it’s impossible to refuse playing with one’s host. So I have decided that the sooner we are out of it the better.’ ‘You are right,’ said his wife, thoughtfully. ‘I was afraid of this all along. It sounds dreadfully vulgar, I know, but Usk Hall is in reality no better than a private hell. But what will your _fidus Achates_, Mr Portland, say to our going so suddenly?’ ‘Let him say what he likes,’ replied the earl quickly. ‘I can’t be always answerable to him for my actions. We’ll go straight from here to Wiesbaden and join my mother. No one can reasonably find fault with that.’ ‘No one has a right to find fault with anything you may do,’ said Nora, though her curiosity was aroused by hearing her husband speak so curtly of the opinion of his closest friend; ‘and I’m with you, Ilfracombe, for one. When do you think we _can_ start? The day after to-morrow? That will be Thursday.’ ‘Couldn’t we manage it to-morrow morning?’ asked the earl anxiously. ‘You received some letters by this afternoon’s post. Say you didn’t open them till bedtime, and then found one from my mother, begging us to join her at once as she is ill. Make Denham pack your trunks to-night, and send word of your intentions to Lady Bowmant the first thing in the morning. Can’t you manage it?’ ‘Oh, Ilfracombe, what an arch deceiver and plotter you would make,’ cried the countess, laughing; ‘but, really and truly, I don’t think we can be off quite so soon as that. I’m not sure we should get a train to London to suit us. Besides, unless the dowager were dying, such extreme haste would look very suspicious.’ ‘Well, let her die then. You know what I mean. Say the old lady is _in extremis_, and we can easily revive her as soon as we get over to Wiesbaden.’