“Gentleman will wait your pleasure, sir,” the man said. He broke open the letter, and felt the blood rise to his face as his eyes fell on the signature. The few lines were from his cousin, and ran as follows: “Dear Sir,—I feel it my duty to inform you, as a connection of the family, that Lady Sybil Vermuyden died at five minutes past three o’clock this afternoon. Her death, which I am led to believe could in no event have been long delayed, was doubtless hastened by the miserable occurrences of the last few days. “I have directed Isaac White to convey this intimation to your hands, and to inform you from time to time of the arrangements made for her ladyship’s funeral, which will take place at Stapylton. I have the honour to be, sir, “Your obedient servant, “Robert Vermuyden.” Vaughan laid the letter down with a groan. As he did so he became aware that Isaac White was in the room. “Halloa, White,” he said. “Is that you?” White looked at him with unconcealed respect. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Sir Robert bade me wait on you in person without delay. If I may venture,” he continued, “to compliment you on my own account, sir—a very great honour to the family, Mr. Vaughan—in all the west country, I may say——” Vaughan stopped him, and said something of Lady Sybil’s death; adding that he had never seen her but once. “Twice, begging your pardon,” White answered, smiling. “Do you remember I met you at Chippenham before the election, Mr. Vaughan? Well, sir, she came up to the coach, and as good as touched your sleeve, poor lady, while I was talking to you. Of course, she knew that her daughter was on the coach.” “I learned afterwards that Lady Sybil travelled by it that day,” Vaughan replied. Then with a frown he took up the letter. “Of course,” he continued, “I have no intention of attending the funeral.” “But I think his honour wishes much——” “There is no possible reason,” Vaughan said doggedly. “Pardon me, sir,” White answered anxiously. “You are not aware, I am sure, how highly Sir Robert appreciates your gallant conduct yesterday. No one in Bristol can view it in a stronger light. It is a happy thing he witnessed it. He thinks, indeed, that but for you her ladyship would have died in the crowd. Moreover——” “That’s enough, White,” Vaughan said coldly. “It is not so much what Sir Robert thinks now, too, as what he thought formerly.” “But indeed, sir, his honour’s opinion of that matter, too——” “That’s enough, White,” the young gentleman repeated, rising from his seat. He was telling himself that he was not a dog to be kicked away and called to heel again. He would forgive, but he would not return. “I don’t wish to discuss the matter,” he added with an air of finality. And White did not venture to say more.