On the way to the hotel she kept saying to herself: “Seymour! Seymour! It’s the only thing to do. It’s the only thing to do.” When the car stopped in front of the hotel she got out and went herself to the bureau. “Please give this to Miss Van Tuyn at once. It is very important.” “Yes, my lady.” “Is she in?” “I’m not sure, my lady, but I can soon--” “No, no, it doesn’t matter. But it is really important.” “It shall go up at once my lady.” “Thank you.” As Lady Sellingworth got into her car she felt a sense of relief. “I’ve done the right thing. Nothing else matters.” CHAPTER VI Miss Van Tuyn was not in the hotel when Lady Sellingworth called. She did not come back till late, and when she entered the hall she was unusually pale, and looked both tired and excited. She had been to Dick Garstin on an unpleasant errand, and she had failed in achieving what she had attempted to bring about. Garstin had flatly refused not to exhibit Arabian’s portrait. And she had been obliged to tell Arabian of his refusal. The man at the bureau gave her Lady Sellingworth’s note, and she took it up with her to her sitting-room. As she sat down to read it she noticed the words on the envelope, “Strictly private,” and wondered what it contained. She did not recognize the handwriting as Adela’s. She took the letter out of the envelope and saw again the warning words. “What can it be about?” Before she read further she felt some unpleasant information was in store for her, and for a moment she hesitated. Then she looked at the address on the paper: “18A Berkeley Square.” It was from Adela! She frowned. She felt hostile, already on the defensive, though she had, of course, no idea what the letter was about. But when she had read it her cheeks were scarlet, and she crushed the paper up in her hand. “How dare she write to me like that! I don’t believe it. I don’t believe a word of it! She only wants to take him away from me as she is trying to take Alick Craven.”