Involuntarily Isabel glanced at Mrs. Kaye; Flora had hinted to her of the lady's designs. That face for once was ghastly and unmasked, but the eyes were not glittering with grief. "Impossible!" she cried, sharply. "Lord Brathland? Why--I saw him only two days ago, in London. He was as well as possible." The others barely noticed her. Their astonished eyes were fixed on the first speaker, Captain Ormond, who was sitting very erect, as if to receive the questions fired at him as a brave man faces the hiss of lead on the field. "I know little," he replied; "except that Brathland was suddenly attacked by appendicitis two nights ago and that an operation was immediately performed--" "Friday night!" cried Mrs. Kaye. "Why he spent an hour with me that afternoon, and was to dine with Lord Zeal and Lord Raglin and half a dozen other men that night--they all came up to London to talk over one of Sir Cadge Vanneck's mines. Why--I remember you were to be there. Surely Lord Brathland was well then?" "He was looking very seedy when he came in. I happened to sit next to him--told him he ought to go home. Finally he got so bad he decided that he would, and as he left the table he fainted. Several of us saw him to bed. He said he didn't want his family fidgeting him, and the surgeon said he would be all right in a few days. I thought he was out of danger when I came down last night, so said nothing about it to Harold." "Was he taken home?" asked Gwynne, whose eyes had never left Ormond's face. "No--to Raglin's room up-stairs. The dinner was at the Club." "I cannot understand why his family was not summoned at the last!" exclaimed Lady Victoria. "Well, there's only the old duke and Harold, you see. Dick is out in Africa. I suppose they didn't want to agitate the duke until the last moment and couldn't find Harold until this morning. Besides, Raglin was with him, and he is a relative, at least. It is awfully sudden. I have been upset ever since Harold woke me up this morning and told me; and hated to speak of it." "Who was the surgeon?" asked Gwynne. "Ballast." "Ballast? Who is he? Why not one of the big men, in heaven's name?" cried Mrs. Kaye. "Well--they were all out of town--naturally enough at this time of year. We had to take what we could get. No doubt Lester or Masten was telegraphed for later. I--all of us--left the affair in Raglin's hands." The company broke into general comment, and under cover of the confusion Isabel distinctly heard Gwynne demand: "What's up your sleeve, Ormond?" And the response: "For God's sake, old chap, don't ask!" IX