Mr. Hamlyn was shown into the drawing-room and in a minute or two, Gussie Davies came to him. The girl was white and tired of feature. Dark semicircles were under her eyes, but her manner had a nervous excitement that was infectious. Both of them spoke in that agitated whisper that some people affect in the neighbourhood of those who are seriously ill and whom they think like to die. It is a whisper in which there is a not unpleasurable note, a self-congratulation at being near to the Great Mystery, as spectators merely. "How is she?" whispered Hamlyn. "Bad," answered Gussie. "Dr. Hibbert's been and I had a chat with him afterwards. He daren't speak as plain as he'd like, for fear of frightening her. But he says she must _not_ keep on exciting herself. It will be fatal if she does. Another two months of this St. Elwyn's excitement will kill her, Mr. Hamlyn. I'm sure of that." "What's she been saying?" "Oh, the same old thing: Why doesn't Mr. Hamlyn do something decisive? Why doesn't he strike these proud priests some crushing blow? You know she's heard that Miss Blantyre has come to live at the vicarage, and that makes her keener than ever." "Well, I must think of something, that's all," said the secretary in a decisive whisper. "I'll promise her a new move almost at once. I suppose you've had no chance to get in a word about the will?" "Not a chance. I can't find out anything either. All I know is that her solicitor hasn't been here since she joined the League. So that looks as if there isn't anything done _yet_." "I don't suppose there is, my dear. But if I can keep her quiet _now_, and do something big in the parish in a few days, then I suppose we might broach it?" "Certainly, Mr. Hamlyn, I should say so." "Good. One more question, Gussie, before I go up. Do you think it wise to mention a contribution to the working fund just now? One can never be too zealous in the cause of Protestant Truth, but I want to deal wisely with her." "Oh, I think you'll be safe enough for a hundred or two," Gussie said, "as long as you promise her a good rumpus soon! She ain't mean, I will say that for her." Mr. Hamlyn nodded in a brisk, business-like way, rang for the maid, and was shown up to the sick-room. Gussie remained in the drawing-room. She wondered how successful her friend and lover's father would be. She had immense faith in his abilities and already looked forward to the time when, released for ever from her duties at Malakoff House, she would, as Mrs. Hamlyn, Junior, become a leading lady of True Protestantism. Not that the girl hated her employer. She had no affection for Miss Pritchett--and it would have been wonderful if she had--but her feeling was not stronger than that. As for the money question, the money that the rich old lady was giving to the Luther League, Gussie saw no harm in that. The money was for a good cause, so she believed, and the Hamlyns, _père et fils_, had much better have the handling of it than any one else!