The few minutes consumed in leave-taking were very tedious to Fitzwilliam Baldwin, and his pale face and uncontrollably absent manner did not pass unnoticed by the lady of the house. "I am sure there is something the matter with Mr. Baldwin," said Mrs. Sinclair to her husband, when the visitors had departed, a strange sort of gloom accompanying their leave-taking. "Did you notice, William, how ill he looked?--just like a man who had seen a ghost." "Nonsense," was the uncompromising reply of Mr. Sinclair; "I daresay he is not well. You should not say such things before the children, Minnie; you'll see now we shall have them gravely demanding to be informed what is a ghost. What shall you do then?" "Refer them to you, sir, as the source and dispenser of universal knowledge. And it's all very well for you to say 'nonsense;' but I am certain something is very wrong with Mr. Baldwin. However, if there is, we shall soon know it. I am sure I hope not, for his sister's sake." "And his wife's, surely; she is a very sweet creature." "I prefer Lady Davyntry," said Mrs. Sinclair shortly; and the conversation dropped. Mr. Baldwin was perfectly right in his anticipation of the manner in which the communication he had to make to his "womankind" would be received by them. Lady Davyntry was very voluble, Margaret was very silent and closely observant of her husband. "What a horrid nuisance, my dear Fitz!" said Lady Davyntry; "and I must say I think it is extremely stupid of Curtis. Of course I don't pretend to understand mining business, and rights and royalties, and all the rest of it; but I do wonder he needs must bother you about it just now, when we are all so comfortable here, and Madge getting ever so much better. I suppose writing to these odious people would not do?" "No, Eleanor, certainly not," replied her brother; "I must go to them, there's nothing else for it; I saw that at once." "Dear, how tiresome! And how long shall you be away, Fitz?" "It is impossible to tell, Nelly; and I must start as soon as possible.--How soon can you be ready, Margaret?" There was an extraordinary tenderness in his tone, something beyond the customary unfailing sweetness with which he invariably addressed her; a compassionate unconscious deference in his manner which thrilled her sensitive nerves. She had not removed her gaze from her husband's face since he had made the communication which he had promised; but she had not spoken a word. Now she said simply, still looking at him: "I can be ready to start to-morrow, if you are." "To start to-morrow, Madge!" exclaimed Lady Davyntry in half-angry, half-incredulous astonishment. "You cannot mean it. There was never such an idea entertained by Fitz, I am certain, as your going.--Of course you don't mean it?" And she turned anxiously to her brother. "I certainly did think Margaret would come with me," returned Mr. Baldwin.