"Too far off," answered Sir Henry, in perfect good faith. "No. I'll tell you what. Let's go and ask Mrs. Lascelles to give us a cup of tea." Frank started, and his heart thumped against a little note lying in his waistcoat-pocket; but, though the thump was for Helen, the note was from some one very different to that well-conducted young lady. Was he disloyal enough, even now, to leap at the chance of seeing Miss Hallaton just once more, and for the last time? If so, he was doomed to be disappointed, and it served him right. Picard, who carried no notes of any description in his pockets, and whose heart seldom beat unless he walked fast up-hill, agreed willingly to the baronet's proposition. He, too, entertained a vague sentiment of admiration for Helen, capable of soon ripening into something warmer if she had any fortune, and under such circumstances his game now was to see as much of her as he could. Thus it fell out, that these three gentlemen, arriving at Mrs. Lascelles's door, found themselves face to face with Uncle Joseph, fresh from the City, who had just rung the bell, and was utilising his time by grinding a pair of thick soles fiercely against the scraper. It would have amused a bystander to observe the effect produced on each visitor by the footman's appearance and the information he tendered. "Has Miss Hallaton been here?" said Sir Henry, whose position on the top step gave him priority of speech with the doorkeeper. "Called to leave a note after luncheon, Sir Henry, and I was to say she'd a-gone out driving with Lady Sycamore, and wouldn't be home till seven, if you came for her here." Picard, pulling out a memorandum-book, muttered that "he had forgotten an appointment at his Club," while Frank's face darkened, and he smothered something between an oath and a sigh. "Is Miss Ross at home?" then demanded Uncle Joseph, with the air of a man who submits to an unnecessary formality in compliance with the usages of society. "Miss Ross had stepped out--oh! _not_ five minutes ago--the gentlemen might almost have met her at the corner of the street." Frank now seemed uneasy, looked at his watch, observed it was "rather too late to call," and disappeared. Uncle Joseph gasped. Did Miss Ross leave no message? For _him_, Mr. Groves? Was the man quite sure? The man _was_ quite sure, so far as he knew; should he ask the maid? "D----n the maid!" I am sorry to say, was Uncle Joseph's reply, and without further leave-taking he bustled off in a towering passion, while Sir Henry and the footman, on the door-step, contemplated each other in some amusement and no little surprise. The baronet broke into a laugh. "You soon clear off your visitors, James. Is Mrs. Lascelles at home to _me_!" "Certainly, sir! Yes, sir! In the boodore, sir!" answered James. "I'd just taken in tea when you rang."