She was at once admitted however, and spent a short time with Delia in the Library. And when Miss Jackson closed the Library door behind her on her way out of the house, Delia broke the seal of a letter which had been given into her hands:-- "I am very sorry, my dear Delia, you should have taken these silly reports so much to heart. You had better dismiss them from your mind. I have given no such orders as you suppose--nor has the Central Office. The plan you found referred to something quite different--I really can't remember what. I can't of course be responsible for all the 'Daughters' in England, but I have much more important business to think of just now than the nonsense Mr. Lathrop seems to have been stuffing you with. As to W-----L-----, it would only be worth while to strike at him, if our affairs _go wrong_--through him. At present, I am extraordinary hopeful. We are winning every day. People see that we are in earnest, and mean to succeed--at whatever cost. "I am glad you are coming up on Monday. You will find the flat anything but a comfortable or restful place,--but that you will be prepared for. Our people are amazing!--and we shall get into the House on Thursday, or know the reason why. "For the money you sent, and the money you promise--best thanks. Everybody is giving. It is the spirit of the Crusader, 'Dieu le veult!'" "Your affectionate G. M." Delia read and re-read it. It was the first time Gertrude had deliberately tried to deceive her, and the girl's heart was sore. Even now, she was not to be trusted--"now that I am risking everything--_everything_!" And with the letter in her lap, she sat and thought of Winnington's face, as he had turned to look at her, before leaving the drawing-room the night before. * * * * * The day passed drearily. The hills and trees were wrapped in a damp fog, and though the days were lengthening fast, the evening closed like November. Madeleine thought with joy of getting back to her tiny house and her Nora. Nora, who was not yet out, seemed to have been enjoying a huge success in the large cousinly party with whom she had been spending the Christmas holidays. "But it's an odd place, Mummy. In the morning we 'rag'; and the rest of the day we talk religion. Everybody is either Buddhist or 'Bahai'--if that's the right way to spell it. It sounds odd, but it seems to be a very good way of getting on with young men." Heavens! What did it matter how you played the old game, or with what counters, so long as it was played? And as Lady Tonbridge watched the figure of Delia gliding through the house, wrapped in an estranging silence, things ancient and traditonal returned upon her in flood, and nothing in the world seemed worth having but young love and happy marriage!--if you could get them! She--and her heart knew its bitterness--had made the great throw and lost. * * * * *