But she didn’t let herself or George Augustus down to the Hartly family. She reckoned—and reckoned rightly—that George Augustus would follow her up pretty smartly, for fear of “what people would say.” So she sent a telegram to Pa and Ma to say she was coming to see them for a few days—they were fairly well accustomed to Isabel’s impulsive moves by this time—and she left a note, a dramatic and naturally (not artistically) tear-stained note for George Augustus on the bedroom dressing-table. She took a few inexpensive presents home, and played her part so well that at first even Ma Hartly only vaguely suspected that something was wrong. * * * * * The loving and united home at Sheffield was in some consternation when Isabel did not return for lunch; and the consternation almost became panic—it certainly became rage in dear Mamma—when George Augustus found and communicated Isabel’s letter. “She must be found and brought back here at once,” said dear Mamma decisively, already scenting carnage from afar, “she has disgraced herself, disgraced her husband and disgraced the family. I have long noticed that she is inattentive at family prayers. She must be given a good lesson. It was an ill day for us all when Augustus married so far beneath him. He must go and fetch her back from her low vulgar family—to think of our dear little George being in such _immoral_ surroundings.” “Suppose she won’t come?” said dear Papa, who had suffered so many years from dear Mamma that he had a fellow feeling for Isabel. “She must be _made_ to come,” said dear Mamma, “Augustus! You must do your duty and assert your authority as a _Husband_. You must leave to-night.” “But what will people _say?_” murmured George Augustus dejectedly.