Next morning, before anybody else was awake, an early housemaid stole into Mrs Lycett-Landon's room, and told her that a gentleman had arrived who wanted to see her. The poor lady had slept a little towards the morning, and was waked by this message. She thought it must be her husband, and after a moment of dolorous hesitation got up hastily and dressed herself, and went to the sitting-room, which was still in the disorder of last night, and looking, if that were possible, still more wretched, raw, and unhomelike than in its usual trim. She found, with a great shock and sense of discouragement, old Mr Fareham, pale after his night's journey, with all the wrinkles about his eyes more pronounced, and the slight tremor in his head more visible than ever. He came forward to meet her, holding out both his hands. "What can I do for you?" he said. "What has happened? I came off, you see, by the first train." "Oh, Mr Fareham, I never expected this! You must have thought me mad. I think, indeed, I must have been off my head a little last night. I telegraphed, did I?--I scarcely knew what I was doing----" "You have not found him, then?" She covered her face with her hands. To meet the old man's eyes in the light of day and tell her story was impossible. Why had not she gone away, buried herself somewhere, and never said a word? "I have seen Mr Landon, Mr Fareham; he is not--ill: but Horace knows nothing," she said, hastily. "My dear lady, if I am to do anything for you I must know." "I don't think there is anything to be done. We have had a--serious disagreement; but Horace knows nothing," she repeated again. He looked at her, and she could not bear his eyes. "I am very sorry to have given you so much trouble----" "The trouble is nothing," he said. "I have known you almost all your life. It would be strange if I could not take a little trouble. I think I know what you mean. You were distracted last night, and sent for me. But now in the calm of the morning things do not look so bad, and you think you have been too hasty. I can understand that, if that is what you mean." She could not bear his eye. She sank down in the chair where she had sat last night and talked to Horace. _In the calm of the morning!_ It was only now, when she felt that she had begun to live again, that all her problems came back to her, full awake, and fell upon her like harpies. _Things do not look so bad!_ There passed through her mind a despairing question, whether she had strength to persuade him that this was so, and that there really was nothing to appeal to him about. "My dear lady," he said again, "you must be frank with me. Is it a false alarm, and nothing for me to do? If so, not another word; I will forget that you ever sent for me. But if there is something more----"