The sentence was broken off short, as the door opened, and a footman entered and handed a telegram to his mistress. "For Cousin Arthur," she said, glancing from the orange-coloured envelope to Rupert. "I wonder whether I had better just open it, or have it re-telegraphed straight on to him?" "Open it, I should think," Rupert answered carelessly; "it may be some trivial matter which you can answer," and acting upon his words, Cicely drew out the pink paper from its orange cover, and read the lines written upon it; read them slowly, and with a puzzled frown, that changed suddenly to an expression of delight. "What an extraordinary coincidence. You need not wait, James. I will send the answer down to the telegraph boy in a few minutes. Look at this, Rupert," she went on, as the footman left the room. "Isn't it extraordinary that this telegram should have come in the very middle of our conversation?" Rupert took the flimsy paper from her hand, and as he read the words, his cousin saw an extraordinary change flash over his face--a dusky colour mounted to his forehead, a strange brightness leapt to his eyes; and, having read the words to himself, he read them aloud-- "Come here at once. Wire to post office, Graystone; and any train shall be met. Christina Moore with me. Have made important discovery.--MARGARET STANFORTH." "At last," he murmured under his breath, as with curious deliberation he folded up the telegram, and handed it back to Cicely. "At last I have found her." The low-spoken words reached Cicely's ears, and she stared at her cousin's transformed face, saying almost involuntarily-- "But--Rupert--I can't understand. Are you really so pleased to have found Christina?" Rupert looked at her with a sudden confusion in his glance. "Did I speak my thoughts aloud?" he said; "look here, Cicely, I am afraid I was not thinking of Miss Moore at that moment, though I am glad, very glad, to hear she is safe. And she is in such good hands, too," he added softly, the light in his eyes making Cicely realise all at once that there was a Rupert she had never known, besides the Rupert who had always been so steadfast a rock upon which to lean. "It isn't fair to have said so much, and not to say more," he added quickly. "This lady who telegraphs--Margaret Stanforth--is--a friend of mine, a most noble and dear friend. I--had lost sight of her, and--I am glad to know where she is." Although the words were bald to the point of coldness, Cicely saw that the usually self-controlled man was deeply stirred by an emotion that almost overmastered him, and she tactfully refrained from directly answering his words, saying only-- "I am very glad Christina is in such good hands. I must telegraph this message on to Cousin Arthur at once. It is evidently most important." "Evidently," Rupert replied absently, but he roused himself to re-write the telegram for Cicely; and, only when it had been despatched, did he turn to her and say--